The Elven Diaries
by MelanyeBaggins
Summary: Haldir, the Captain and Marchwarden of Lorien, and his secret affair with a married elf. Written in diary; 3rd person format. Rated R for some sex, violence and mature themes.
1. Prologue

Introduction: I've re-formatted the story since the html tags didn't work. Same disclaimer though…Mirien, Doran, Tamar, and any other elf I make up are mine, everything else not. This is by no means smut, so if that's what you're looking for you've wasted your time. It will be a good story though, and there are sex scenes, just not terribly graphic ones. And as for elves cheating on each other…I have not yet read anything that mentions them ever doing so, but it doesn't say if _can't_ happen either. Think about it…a lifetime with ALWAYS the same person. What happens if you promised your life to someone you no longer love? That's my point.

Now, on with the story.

Prologue:

Current mood: Confused

Current music: One- U2

"What's wrong, Mirien?" Ameron walked up behind his wife as she stared out towards the night sky.  
  
"Nothing."  
  
"Don't say that. Something is wrong- I see it in your face, I hear it in everything you say to me. What is it?" She looked at him, into his eyes, but then turned away.  
  
"I don't want to talk about it."  
  
"Not even with me? I'm your husband!" She sighed and walked away.  
  
"Ameron, you haven't been a husband to me for twenty years now." For a moment he stayed where he was standing, trying to understand what she'd meant by those words, but then followed her.  
  
"Is that what's bothering you? Why have you not spoken of this sooner?" She remained silent, crossing her arms and turning away from him. "What have I done wrong? Please, tell me!" She turned to look at him again. Finally after a moment she shook her head.  
  
"Nothing. Everything, Ameron...I...I don't know anymore. But I know you feel it too. It's in your eyes when you look at me- the same look I see in the mirror every day but has no name." Ameron was silent. He stared at her, his wife he'd known since he was young, who now seemed as a stranger to him. He sat by the fountain in thought, until finally speaking.  
  
"How long have you felt this way?"   
"I don't know," she said softly, "I can't remember not feeling this. When we married I was happy, but something happened and we both changed."  
  
"What should we do about this?" He stood and approached her, but as he did she seemed to pull away. "We've been together for so long...I can't imagine not being with you," he tried to touch her, caress her face as he'd done so many times before, but she resisted, stepping backwards. "Can you not even stand to be with me?"  
"No, it's not that at all. It just feels...empty. There's nothing there, Ameron, I don't feel anything when you touch me. Not like I used to."  
  
"I do love you…"  
"I think I love you too. Maybe that's the problem- I forgot whether I do or not. It's not anything you've done, but maybe what you could have done."  
  
"What's that?" She shook her head.  
"I don't know." Ameron turned away, already feeling heaviness in his heart. "I'm sorry, Ameron, I really am. It's not your fault. I just need some time...to figure things out." In one last moment of true affection, Ameron places his hand on his heart, and then on his wife's.  
  
"You have it."


	2. Chapter One

**__**

Chapter One:

*One Year Later*

Current Mood: Contemplative

Current Music: You had time- Ani Defranco

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I got a letter from Ameron today. I was a little excited when Tamar handed it to me, but also a little afraid. We haven't spoken in so long…I guess it was good for us, but I'm not sure what to say to him. 

The letter itself was nothing special. Just telling me what is happening in Lorien, how he was promoted to Lieutenant and about all the new duties he has now. It was nice to hear from him, and he seemed…a little more like the old Ameron. The one I fell in love with so long ago. It made me happy that he's happy. The only thing was, he never asked about me. 

I suppose he thought I would write back anyway and so he wouldn't have to ask how I was, but…it would have been nice to know he's thinking about me. There were no 'I miss you's, not even an 'I love you'. I miss hearing those things, but it didn't bother me as much as it should have. I can't explain it. Am I falling out of love with him? How could this be? What could I ask of him that would change how I feel? What could he do? 

What could I do? 

Maybe I should see him. I do miss him, perhaps I should go and see if we can work this out. I have to at least try, but…part of me doesn't want to. It's saying that when I go it will be just the same awkwardness and loneliness even when I'm with him. I don't want to have to feel that again. I just don't know what to say to him anymore…I think after one hundred and twenty- three years we've said it all. I wonder if he's as frustrated with this as I am. Or…maybe not. 

"Beautiful, Isn't it?" 

Mirien jumped as Doran broke into her thoughts. She smiled warmly at her friend and looked back to the horizon before her. Below them, the bow of _Airëlussa _rent the colors of the sunset on the surface of the Anduin. Mirien leaned so far over the railing, watching the living tapestry before her, that Doran grabbed her cloak and pulled her back. 

"Doran!" she said with a smile, "You know this is the most beloved time of day for me. When have I ever complained of the sky?"

"Every morning," he said with a smirk, " 'when the sun would chase away the moon and it's light banish the stars.' Do you not think I know you after all these years, Mirien?" She laughed and again turned her face into the wind, watching as the sun sank behind the trees. 

" 'And every evening Varda would take her leave of Manwë to paint the sky with stars,'" she recited. She watched the final rays of the sun fade and turned east in anticipation for Varda to begin her work.

"Where does that come from?" asked Doran. She looked to him in surprise. 

"You don't know me as well as you think you do if you need to ask me that!" she laughed. "It was a song my mother would sing to me every night as we watched the stars appear. There was a clearing near our home in the trees where we could see them clearly." She paused and smiled as she looked east. "She's probably out there right now."

"You miss home, don't you?" asked Doran. She shrugged. She tried to look indifferent but instead seemed wistful.

"Which one? In Mirkwood with my parents or in Lorien with my husband?" 

"You know what I mean," he said. She sighed.

"Yes, I suppose I do." She looked up at him and frowned. "I got a letter from him this morning."

"I know. What did he say?" She smiled slightly and sat on the railing. He sat beside her.

"Basically that I should come home. He didn't say it directly, but if you read into his words something that's not there you could almost imagine that's what he's saying." Doran chuckled.

"So really nothing has changed."

"No, nothing's changed." She looked up at the sky in that moment, just in time to see Earendil appear above them. "It's been over a year that we've been apart, and yet I feel that I could go on for another. Is that bad?"

"Yes it is," he nodded gravely. He saw her downcast expression and then grinned, elbowing her in the ribs. "Go and see him," he said. "Tell him how miserable you are. Make him do something about it!" She laughed and he caressed her face with his hand. "You need to do that more often, it's good for you." She stood and looked out over the Anduin, thinking. After a moment she turned and shook her head at him.

"Alright, Doran, you win." He stood with a cry of triumph. "Turn the ship around. Tell the others…we're going home."


	3. Chapter Two

Chapter Two:

Current Mood: angry

Current Music: The Last High- The Dandy Warhols (Lara Croft: The Cradle of Life Soundtrack) 

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I lost two more scouts today. These border attacks are becoming far too frequent. It's as if there is a plan or strategy behind them, but I cannot see it. They strike where our defence is the weakest, and in great numbers. These Orcs are also different than usual. We are used to Moria Orcs on our western borders, but these are strange to us. They are much bigger, and bear strange symbols. 

I have returned to Caras Galathon to report my findings to Celeborn and to allow my group to rest. I hope he can tell us what is happening- some say that the Dark Lord has indeed returned. If that is true, our time in Lorien may be over, for who will stand up to him? If Lord Celeborn would decide that we should fight I would do it, for the rise of the Dark One will affect not only us, but all of Middle-Earth. 

"Haldir!" an elf cried as he ran up beside him. Haldir had walked right by him, lost in dark thought. 

"Fëaron! How are you?" His mood had immediately lifted at the sound of his friend's voice. 

"I heard we will be in the city for a few days while you report to Celeborn. Since your brothers are away, would you like to have evening meal with my wife and I?" Although his smile did not falter, Haldir had to struggle to respond in an even tone.

"No, but thank you," he said. "You and Nalloth should be together." His friend insisted but he again politely refused. "Another time, _mellon nin_." Several others under his command extended similar offers, but all were given the same response: he was busy. In reality, all he wanted was to be alone. He loved his soldiers dearly, as if they were his brothers, but he rarely had any time to himself because of it. Sometimes he wished for a day when he could have the time to think, by himself with no distractions. It was a luxury he knew a Captain could not have.

He walked through the tall and graceful Mallorns until he came to the flet that he and his brothers shared. He laid a hand thoughtfully on the soft rope ladder before lightly climbing up to the top.

"You know you can't hide from us, Haldir," said the elf who was sitting cross-legged on the floor waiting for him. 

"No, but I can try," he responded with a straight, almost cold expression. He stared at the other elf in disdain for several long minutes, until finally a small unwelcome grin forced its way out onto his face. The two laughed.

"Ah," said the other elf, "still can't beat me, Haldir! And you call yourself a Captain!" Haldir shook his head and sat down.

"No, Lady Galadriel calls me 'Captain', I just happen to agree with her." 

"Well I don't," he said, "If you can't even stare down your friend, how do you look on angry Orc in battle?" Haldir grinned.

"With exceedingly great pity for the one who is about to find the edge of my sword," he said. "How are you, Valdir?"

"I'm wondering why you've passed up three dinner invitations to sit alone in your flet and feel sorry for yourself." 

"I'm not feeling sorry for myself," said Haldir, "I just want to be alone." Valdir shook his head.

"I think being alone is why you're up here and not out there," he said motioning to the city below them. "I think you're lonely because all your scouts are married and you are not." Haldir stared at his friend for a long time, and as he did Valdir saw his eyes soften as deep emotions flickered in them. He looked down at the smooth wood beneath them and nodded. 

"You are right, _mellon,_" he said. "I don't know why, but these past few days all I can think of is that I am alone." He looked up and took a breath as if to speak, but then released it again. He stood and walked to the trunk of the mighty mallorn that grew tall and graceful through the centre of his flet, touching the smooth bark with his hand. "I never wanted or needed this before," he said, almost as if to himself, or possibly the tree before him. "I had the beauty of the mallorns and elanor, The Lord and Lady, and my army, but now…I feel that something is missing. I see the others with their wives and children and I feel incomplete." He turned to his friend who sat listening with quiet support. "You are right," he said again, "I am alone." Valdir shook his head as he stood.

"You aren't alone, Haldir, you still have all those things."

"Yes, but they no longer complete me. But yet," he said as he walked to the edge of his flet and looked out over Lorien, "I can't imagine meeting anyone who will."


	4. Chapter Three

Chapter Three:

Current mood: Uneasy

Current music: 32 Flavours- Ani Defranco

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We're just about to dock in Lorien. I'm feeling a little anxious about seeing Ameron again. What will we say when we meet? What will we do? It feels as if I'm meeting him again for the first time, except that this time my parents aren't here to reassure me. I wish they were…I miss my family. It's been a long time since I've visited, really visited. Maybe Ammë can help me sort out what's going on. 

"Mirien," Doran interrupted her writing as he opened the door to her cabin. She looked up in surprise. "We're nearly ready to dock," he said. She nodded and got up, closing her book and locking it in her cabinet before following her friend out the door.

The whole ship was alive with noise and clambour as they approached the tree lined inlet before hem. The sight of the soft golden rays of sunlight filtering through the green mallorn leaves to the water nearly took her breath away. Immediately, nervousness replaced the wonder in her heart.

'_Ameron is in that forest…'_ she thought to herself.

"Captain!" She turned to see Tamar looking at her quizzically. "We're ready to drop the anchor," he said. She looked ahead to the dock coming closer and closer. Finally when they were at the proper distance she turned back to him and nodded.

"Go ahead, Lieutenant." He turned and ran off, shouting orders to the others. Secconds later she hear a splash as first one, then the other anchor was dropped in the water. Suddenly Doran was beside her and he took her arm.

"Captain, there's a problem."

"Problem?"

"Someone on the shore is denying us the dock."

"What? Who?" She looked past him, trying to see who was there. Doran shrugged and she sighed as she brushed past him to see what was going on. 

Mirien came to the railing on the port side and saw a group of elves on the shore waiting for her. One in front of the m, presumably the leader, stood with his hands on his hips, looking at her critically.

"Are you in charge?"

"I am. What is the problem?"

"You can't dock here." Mirien sighed.

"Why not?"

"This is a reserved dock." Mirien narrowed her eyes at him. 

"I've not seen you here before, are you new?" she asked. "I've always docked here."

"New?" he said the word as if it were the most absurd thing she could have said. "I am Haldir, Captain of the Galadhrim!"

"Well," she said with an equal amount of disdain. "I am Mirien, captain of this ship. This is our dock- it's reserved for me." On the shore, Haldir turned as another elf came from the trees. They spoke softly for several moments before the other elf left. Haldir turned back to her, his expression quite changed. 

"I apologise," he said in a much softer tone, then left the shore. Mirien shook her head with an amused grunt before going about the rest of the docking.

Later that day Mirien left the ship in Doran's care. She instructed the crew to stock up on supplies and then to take some time for themselves. Then, with the same trepidation she'd had earlier, she set out to find Ameron. The first place she went was their home.

Unlike the scouts and guards of Lorien, most elves lived in houses built among the boughs of the tall mallorns. Mirien and Ameron's house was small, but was perfect for them. Just big enough for two to be comfortable. 

She set her things down in their room, touching all the familiar things they shared, but sighed when she found the house empty. 

She decided to go out and see her friends, hoping she'd find him in the process. She received the usual 'it's good to see you's and 'we missed you's from everyone she met. She politely greeted everyone with the usual small talk and kind words before she saw him. There was Ameron, standing among a group of young scouts.

She approached him cautiously, almost stealthily. His back was to her and he was explaining some sort of strategy to the younger elves. One by one the others saw her and looked, until he finally caught their gaze and turned. She stopped dead in her tracks as his eyes found hers. They widened in what at first she'd thought was shock, but found later was pleasant surprise. And then a smile. A truly, happy smile.

"Ameron," she said, but it came out as a whisper. Behind him, the other elves seemed to have gotten the hint and dispersed, some whispering to each other and looking back at her as they left. Ameron still stared at her, as if for the first time; his eyes tracing her body as if her were appraising a precious gem. She suddenly felt self conscious, looking down at her travelling clothes and wishing she'd dressed up a bit. When she looked up again Ameron had crossed the space between them and lifted her head up with his finger. Their eyes locked for what seemed like hours, until finally he brought his lips to hers in a sweet, tender kiss.

"I missed you," he whispered, his warm breath caressing her lips. She looked into his eyes and saw them burning with a desire she hadn't seen in them for a long time. She felt her heart quicken, but more out of fear of the intensity she saw there than out of her own lust. She managed to respond, however, in an equally passionate voice.

"I missed you too."

They went back home and sat together on their bed, each waiting for the other to speak. Mirien toyed with a button on her sleeve as she thought, and then looked up.

"Were they your scouts?" she asked. 

"Yes," he said, "they're new. I'm in charge of their training." She nodded and looked back at her sleeve. "So," he said, "how have you been?" She looked up.

"Good. I'm….good." She looked down again. "Ameron…" She was cut off as his finger touched her lips. She fell silent and stared. His eyes again smouldered with desire.   


"Mirien," he whispered softly, "I've missed you, Mirien." His hand moved to cup her face as he brought his lips to hers. She gasped and returned the kiss, but he became more insistent. His tongue danced lightly over her lips, and she parted them allowing him to deepen their kiss. Before she knew it she was on her back, and he was kissing her cheek, jaw, neck, as his hands began to explore other parts of her. 

  
She felt excited, but not aroused. She couldn't explain it even to herself, but his touch did not hold the same thrill as it once did. She enjoyed the attention he gave her, and moaned and gasped in all the right places as he made love to her, but she didn't feel it, as if her body was numb, immune to his efforts. 

With a final gasp of pleasure he fell on top of her. She kissed his forehead, stroking his damp hair as sleep took him, wondering how she could coax her body into feeling something more. She knew her heart loved him, but the excitement was gone. She'd lost it somewhere and now she could not even remember what it felt like. She sighed and, with one last kiss in his hair, closed her eyes and allowed sleep to claim her too.


	5. Chapter Four

AN: Sorry this took so long…been pretty busy for a while. Hope you like it, I've decided to change a bit where the story is going. I want it to earn it's R rating ;) I'm a little nervous about writing the particular subject matter I've chosen (it'll come up in the next few chapters) but it's where the characters are leading me, so I must follow. Please comment, I can use all the help I can get with this one!

Chapter Four

Current Mood: relieved

Current Music: Thank U- Alanis Morrisette

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I have my wife back…at least, I think I do. I did not realise how much I missed her until I saw her again, standing there among the mallorns. She really does belong here… I know she said that her heart is in the water, her ship, but I would hope there is some room in there for me and Lorien!

She told me she'd be here for a week while her crew rests and they restock the ship. I with she would stay longer. We are married, we are supposed to share our lives with each other, and yet she spends more time on that ship than with me. I asked her to stay longer but she said the same thing she always does – she has to work. Keep the communication open between Mirkwood and Lorien. I suppose it's just as well. Haldir and I have a meeting today to re-assign border patrols. Perhaps I will request a watch near the Anduin…

Ameron gently sat on the edge of the bed, careful not to wake his sleeping wife. He watched her for a moment as her chest rose and fell, strands of golden hair partially hiding her face. He leaned in to brush away the silken locks with his hand, lightly caressing her cheeks as he did. 

She stirred and groaned, but did not wake. He smiled and again caressed her face, tracing her cheekbones and jawline, until his thumb came to lightly smooth across her lips. This time she did wake, slitting her eyes open to peek at him through her drowsiness. He leaned down to kiss her, full on the lips and she lazily returned the gesture. He buried his hands in her soft hair, drinking her in – touch, taste and smell. 

Slowly his kisses moved from her mouth to her cheek, down her neck to her still bare shoulder. Mirien began playing in his hair as he began to trail kisses across her collarbone to the other shoulder. Just as he was about to make another trail further down, there was a sharp knock at the door. Ameron jerked up, startled. His gaze went from his wife's shocked, yet amused grin, to the door.

"Yes? What is it?" he demanded. Beneath him Mirien began to shake in barely controlled mirth. 

"The Captain is waiting for your arrival," said the door. This time he heard a small giggle escape from the elf under him. He turned to her revealing that he too was struggling to keep his laughter to himself. At last, unable to resist, he said it.

"I'll bet she is," he whispered to her, causing her to loose all control and dissolve into peals of laughter. He clamped his hand over her mouth, biting back his own amusement and responded.

"Yes, I'll be right there!" he shouted. He had tried to sound annoyed, but it came out as amused. The two waited in silence for a few minutes until they were sure the messenger was gone before dissolving in a fit of laughter. When finally the giggles had subsided, Ameron caressed his wife's cheek, looking at her lovingly. 

"We haven't laughed like that in a long time, have we?" he said. She reached out to caress his face in return and he leaned into the touch, before taking her wrist and kissing her palm. He then leaned down to kiss her lips before getting up off the bed.

"Ameron," she called as he began dressing. 

"I have to go, _melmenya_," he said.

"Ameron, we must talk," she continued. He looked up as he laced his trousers. 

"And we will. Later." 

"Bu-" she was cut off as he planted a kiss on her lips. 

"Later," he said. He picked up his weapons from the table and, strapping them to his back, left their home. Mirien sighed and lay back on the bed, wondering what it was she wanted to talk about so urgently.

After she'd had breakfast, Mirien also received a summons at the door. Celeborn wished to speak with her. When she arrived he explained that his scouts had informed him that it was becoming increasingly difficult for them to send reinforcements to the north and south borders in good time, and that they had requested the aid of ships. 

"Are you saying that you want me to ferry soldiers back and forth to the borders?" she asked bluntly. Celeborn appeared amused at her response. 

"It would only be for a little while, until we can build a ship specifically for that purpose. Will you?" She sighed. She hated the idea of her ship being used like this. It was hers to command, no one else's. Reluctantly, she nodded. 

"Thank you for your help," he said, sounding truly grateful, "I will inform Captain Haldir immediately." She froze. Mirien had been in the midst of rising from her chair when he spoke and it was all she could do not to fall back into it with shock. She continued to stand, hoping he hadn't noticed her reaction.

"If there is nothing else…" she said. He shook his head. She bowed and left his talan. 

That night, over dinner, Mirien finally spoke of what had been on her mind since Ameron had left her that morning. They had been eating in relative silence, save for the occasional sound from the forest and his complimenting her cooking. Her words took him by surprise.

"Ameron, do you love me?" she said softly. He nearly choked on his food as he lay the fork on the table. 

"What…what does that mean?" he asked. "You know I love you." Mirien leaned her arms on the table, as if trying to physically grasp what was going on inside her head. 

"I know you _like_ me, even care for me, that's not in question," she looked up at him. "What I mean is…" she sighed, frustrated. "Like, Galadriel and Celeborn…my parents, your parents…they're all good solid marriages, been together for thousands of years. Why can't we make two hundred work?"

"What are you saying?" he asked. His expression hovered between hurt and anger. 

"We married because of our parents, Ameron, you have to admit that. I was just barely an adult when they put us together."

"I remember," he said, nodding. "But you took the vows regardless."

"Because my parents told me too. They said it was the right thing and I trusted them. But now…"

"Mirien, do you love me?" There was a long silence as she thought about it.

"I like you and care for you," she responded. He sat back and nodded. 

"I see. So, what do you think we should do?" She could see it now, it was definitely hurt in his eyes. _'He really does love me, doesn't he?'_ she thought. That realisation made her next words painful to speak.

"Maybe we should separate." Ameron cast his eyes down. She watched him with concern for a moment, but soon he looked up at her again. The hurt was gone, replaced with looked like feigned indifference. 

"If that is what you think is best," he said coolly. She frowned at his tone, but he would not explain it. Shaking and unsure, Mirien left the table and did not see Ameron lean his face into his hands as she went.


	6. Chapter Five

Chapter Five:

Current mood: Calm

Current music: Satellite (Oakenfold remix)- P.O.D (Lara Croft: The Cradle of Life soundtrack)

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Sometimes I question Celeborn's wisdom. It doesn't happen often, and the feeling is brief and fleeting, but it's there. I felt it today when he told me I would be going to Mirkwood.. He has a message for King Thranduil that must arrive safely and discreetly. I don't doubt that the message is important and requires high security, but taking me from Lorien now, while our eastern borders are weakened? I don't think that is entirely wise. That, and I'll have to see her_ again._

Celeborn has told me that the Airëlussa is due to depart for Mirkwood tomorrow morning and so, in all his wisdom, he has requested passage for me. Scouts would come with me and be dropped off in North Lorien, and I would remain to deliver my message to Thranduil when we arrive in Mirkwood. I don't like it, but I must follow orders. 

I only hope the Captain has forgotten our first meeting.

Haldir strode slowly through the woods away from the city. It would be his last night in his home for several weeks at least, and he wanted to savour it as much as possible. He looked up, finding the waxing moon in the sky, smiling at the light shining down on him. His eyes opened wide, drinking in its light, before turning back to the forest around him.

His fingers brushed lightly against the smooth bark of the mallorns as he passed and he breathed deeply of the scent of grass and leaves. These things were, of course, found in abundance in Mirkwood also, but that forest was darkened, and the trees were full of evil things. No, he did not like going there at all. 

He had been there several times before as the bearer of messages, and was well known by the royals, though they themselves never travelled to Lorien if they could help it. Seldom did they leave their own land, since all their strength was in fighting the darkness to the south. Though the dark tower of the Necromancer in the south of the forest was empty and the evil purged, the forest was still dark and some of the trees in that part of the forest were hostile and angry. Spiders and Orcs still lived there. He had seen it with his own eyes - once, he had joined a scouting party while he visited, but he never would again. 

Haldir shook his head, as if physically banishing the memory. That had not been a good day for anyone, and he would no longer enter the south of what once was Greenwood the Great, save at the last need. Visiting the stronghold to the north, however, was an entirely different matter. 

As dark and brooding as the forest was, there was still a great city of the elves in the North of the realm. Though every day the danger grew nearer, and the scouts just barely held off attacks from the people, they still had a thriving community of artists and musicians, and other talented people, lead by their King Thranduil and his children. He had befriended the family, though they rarely saw each other, though elven memory is long and does not dim with time. If not for the need to leave his realm, he would have genuinely been looking forward to seeing them again. 

As he thought to himself and walked further into the woods, he came upon a figure sitting by one of the silver streams that ran throughout the realm. He was sitting on the ground hugging his knees and looking at his own reflection in the smooth surface of the water. Haldir smiled and approached him.

"_Mae Govannen, Ameron,"_ he said as he went to sit beside him. The other elf did not look up, but nodded in acknowledgement. "What troubles you, my friend? I've not seen you like this before." A sigh came from Ameron as he straightened and sat back on his elbows. He was silent for a long time, and Haldir thought he may not answer. 

"You are lucky, did you know?" he said finally. Haldir frowned and looked at his friend curiously. Ameron looked back at him, meeting the Captain's silver gaze. "You have never married."

"Why would that make me lucky ?" Haldir asked carefully. He had known there was some tension in his friend's marriage. A year ago he had confided in him of his wife's need for space, and how he'd felt at letting her go. His senses were telling him he was about to hear a similar story. Ameron shook his head, his tone and body language downright cynical, a parody of his usual light and joyful self. 

"People don't regret vows they've never taken," he said coldly. Haldir sighed.

"What's happened?" he asked. He placed a comforting hand on his friend's shoulder as he did. Ameron looked at it as if it were something foreign. At last he relaxed and shook his head.

"My wife.returned, only to leave again." He looked down at his hands as they began to shake, forcing them still as he lay them on his knees. "She.wants to separate." He looked up at Haldir, meeting his eyes again. "She said she's not sure if she loves me."

"Did you talk about it?" he asked, but immediately realised how futile the words were. Ameron shot him an incredulous look.

"Of course we talked. We have been talking for five days. It's always the same questions, always the same answers." He sighed and rested his head in his hands. "There's nothing left to say. I've lost her."

"Ameron, she said she's not sure. Don't give up on her yet!" He stood and rested his hands on the other elf's shoulders, giving them a squeeze to emphasise his words. "She loved you enough once to marry you. Make her remember why." Ameron's shoulders shook in a wry chuckle. 

"She married me because we were betrothed before she was born," he said. "Her parents and mine had promised their children would marry to further peace between our realms." He chuckled again, "some peace."

"But she has free will," Haldir pressed. "I'm sure she wouldn't have gone through with it had she objected. She does have love for you, it has only been forgotten. Just give her time." Ameron turned to regard the Captain behind him. He grinned at him before turning back to the stream at his feet.

"I've given her a year.I suppose I could wait a little longer. What have I to loose? I feel like I've already lost everything." Haldir looked down at his friend and frowned. After several moments of silence he simply clapped his friend on the back and left him alone with his thoughts. It was a small victory, but at least there was one. He continued his walk through the woods, slowly making his way back to his talan so he could rest for a while before morning. 

When he reached home and climbed up the slender rope to his talan he sat on the smooth wood to meditate. He let the sounds of the forest surround him and take him away from himself, allowing his mind to rest. He rarely got the chance to be alone with his thoughts anymore, being always busy on the borders. This was a precious oasis of calm before the storm that would be the coming day. He knew the day would bring many challenges - especially when it came to dealing with the Captain, Mirien. He frowned unconsciously but redoubled his efforts to calm himself. He would not allow the situations to get out of hand - the more difficult she was, the more pleasant he would be. _'Yes,'_ he decided, '_that's what I'll do.'_


	7. Chapter Six

Chapter Six:

Current Mood: good

Current Music: Orinoco Flow- Enya

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Today is a good day.

I have not been able to honestly say that for a long time. I have had many days that were nice, happy, inspirational, even joyful, but 'good' is rare. I finally feel in control of my own life. I could get used to this.

I said goodbye to Ameron this morning. We said that we are still friends, but he seemed...distant, almost cold.. It was as if he were saying the words but not believing them. I told him I would be back soon and he said only 'send my greetings to your parents.'

My parents. I ache to see them again, and yet...what will they say when I tell them? No, I cannot think about this now. I have a ship full of scouts to worry about. And Haldir.

Mirien stood by the port rail of _Airëlussa _with her arms folded, watching the activity on the shore. Slowly, supplies were being brought aboard and she followed each crate with narrowed eyes. Doran was behind her directing the soldiers below decks with their cargo and she smiled despite herself at his tone of voice. _'The_y_ are not children, Doran,'_ she thought, hoping he had heard her.

Her eyes flew back to the shore and were immediately drawn to Haldir who had just appeared through the trees. He was armed, and had a pack strapped to his back.. She watched as he moved steadily through his soldiers, stopping occasionally to talk with some of them, but always moving towards the ship. He seemed to be in a good mood also.

She turned and headed to the ramp where eventually he would appear, and waited. She was most definitely nervous, but outwardly was the picture of calm. After waiting only a few minutes he finally came aboard. He almost walked past her, but stopped short when he saw her waiting for him. He approached cautiously, as if unsure of how she would react to him. She forced a cordial smile onto her face and greeted him formally. 

"_Mae Govannen, Haldir_," she said. He relaxed visibly. "You will be travelling to Mirkwood with us, I am told." He nodded.

"That's right, Lord Celeborn has a message for me to deliver to King Thranduil. It will not take long." Mirien smiled. 

"Indeed it will," she said. "We will most likely be staying for a month or more. I trust this is acceptable?" She watched his expression carefully, noting with some satisfaction the slight faltering of his smile. It was _not_ fine with him. If he were sitting, he would be squirming. She suppressed the grin the thought caused as he answered.

"Of course," he said in a slightly strained voice. This time the smile came unbidden.

"You do not wish to stay in Mirkwood longer than necessary?" she asked. She noticed Doran watching them and motioned for Haldir to walk with her, guiding him to his quarters. He hesitated before answering. 

"No, frankly," he said. "Any time away from Lorien is not welcome. Our borders are being threatened almost every day now – I do not wish to leave when something dire may happen in my absence." She heard the truth in his voice when he spoke. He truly feared what may happen while he was away. Suddenly sympathetic, her voice softened. 

"Do you not trust your warriors to guard the borders while you are away?" she asked. He seemed about to answer, but closed his mouth again. "Mirkwood is also assailed daily but even they take breaks in their defence, trusting others to take their place." He nodded as she spoke.

"You are from there, are you not?"

"Yes," she said, "I go to visit family I have not seen for a long time. We would stay longer, save for Lord Celeborn suggested you would never consent to staying for longer than a month." Haldir chuckled softly.

"He said that?" he said with a grin. "Lord Celeborn knows me well, but I would not have you cut short a family gathering purely on my account."

"Nonsense," she said, matching his grin with one of her own. "A month is quite long enough for me. I merely meant that they would insist I stay longer." 

"Ai, and you do not wish to?" he asked as they approached the door to his room. 

"That is none of your business, Captain," she replied playfully. 

"Haldir."

"Excuse me?" 

"My name. Haldir, not 'Captain'," he clarified. She bowed her head slightly. 

"Well then, 'Haldir', here is your room." She opened the door and stepped in. He followed, looking around himself in approval. "Your scouts will be dropped off in Northern Lorien this evening," she began, "and it will take us two days to reach Mirkwood. Feel free to explore the ship as you will, and do not hesitate to ask if something is needed. Also," she waited until he looked at her before continuing. "My officers and I usually dine together for evening meal. We would be honoured if you would join us." He smiled and bowed politely.

"And I would be honoured to attend." She nodded to him and turned to leave, but he stopped her. "Captain?" She turned. "I apologise for my behaviour on the dock several days ago. It was wrong of me." She considered his words and then smiled. 

"Mirien," she replied, "My name is Mirien." She turned then and left him alone, so none but him noticed the slight flush that rose in his cheeks as he grinned after her.


	8. Chapter Seven

Chapter Seven:  


Current Mood: drunk

Current Music: Minor Swing- Chocolat soundtrack (feat. Johnny Depp)

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That was quite unexpected. I was sure Mirien would be unwelcoming and that my trip would be rather miserable, but I was mistaken. I admit, I find myself drawn to her - there is something about her that is not like the others. Perhaps it is her Silvan heritage, for she is so different. The elves in Lorien...they are so painfully stoic, so weighted by the cares of the Noldor that they forget to live the life Illuvatar has given them. Mirien and the others...they truly love life. There is such spirit among them; I find myself fascinated by everything about them. It is...infectious.

I will never survive this trip, not like this. Especially now that I have been invited to evening meal in her cabin. One thing I am sure of – tonight will be interesting.

Haldir paused for a moment outside the door to Mirien's cabin. He could hear laughing and talking behind the door and some strange music that he'd never heard before. Slowly his hand reached for the door to open it, but just as he was about to touch the handle he pulled back as if burned. He knocked hard on the wood surface. 

The door swung open almost immediately, as if the other was waiting for his arrival. He found himself staring into the pale green eyes of the she-elf who held the door open. She had been laughing at some joke that had been told and the smile still lightened her features, though dimmed when she saw his expression. He took a moment to look her over, take in her travel-worn clothes and hair a color of which he had never seen. It seemed as copper streaked with gold, and it hung neatly braided down her back. She smiled at him and laughed. 

"You must be Haldir," she pronounced. "I am Cariell, ship's Armorer." At his bewildered expression she stepped aside with a grin to allow him access to the welcoming room.

The inside was a fairly large room made somewhat smaller by the presence of a large table dominating its centre. Many elves sat around it, Haldir counted eleven including himself, eating and drinking, laughing and talking. Cariell all but pulled him inside, for in his astonishment he hadn't moved at all. He scanned the faces and realised that he knew very few. The two he did know sat at the head of the long table – Mirien and Doran, her second officer. As he caught sight of her she waved and beaconed him over to the empty seat beside her. He made his way over to it, feeling somewhat out of place in the carefree atmosphere of the party. He'd been to many dinner parties before in Lorien, but those were usually calm, subdued affairs where one would closely watch one's every move and choose words with care and precision. This was altogether a different sort of party. Already he caught sight of the wine bottles that littered the table.

"Not quite what you were expecting, is it?" asked Mirien beside him as she leaned over to fill his wine glass. He looked around him with a smile, becoming accustomed to the noise around him and adjusting the volume of his voice accordingly.

  
"It certainly is...different," he admitted. She grinned at him and took a long sip of her own wine before answering.

"We do things a little differently in Mirkwood," she said. "I love Lorien truly, but once I leave it I feel as if I can breathe again." She laughed lightly at her words, but he heard the truth in them. Indeed, a change had come over her since they'd left the woods. He was finally seeing who she really was, not that he'd known her for long before. He felt the easy camaraderie of the friends and shipmates around him like a warm hug, feeling also that within this room, there was no separation of rank or caste, only friends. Here one could really relax. The feeling was intoxicating.

The evening went smoothly, Haldir thoroughly enjoying both food and company. Cariell, he learned, was not of Mirkwood or of Lorien. She was from a small group of nomad elves that had originally lived in Hollin by the Misty Mountains, but were driven away by circumstance. She said that while some had travelled West to sail over the sea, her people split off from the main group. Eventually they settled by the shores of the Celduin that feeds into the Sea of Rhun, East of Mirkwood, and developed close ties with the dwarves of the Iron Hills. 

"I learned all I know of weapons-craft from them," she said, "and it has been put to good use here."

"I was not aware that this ship required weapons," said Haldir. Mirien drew his attention.

"We have, on occasion, engaged the odd band of Orcs when we found them," she said, "but Cariell is not only charged with arms. She sees to the care and maintenance of _Airëlussa_. She is invaluable to me," she finished with a warm smile in the other woman's direction. 

The evening wore on, and the wine flowed freely. Many times throughout the dinner songs would rise from the group when the musicians, which he now saw clearly in a well-lit corner of the room, would play a familiar tune. When the meal ended the table was cleared and put away, opening the room for dancing. The music slowed and mellowed as several of the elves paired off. Haldir, having felt the effects of the wine clouding his head, had retreated to a corner of the room to watch the others. He noticed one couple in particular, dancing quite slowly and quite closely. He took another sip of his wine as he looked on, feeling something strange in his heart as he did – jealousy. 

Mirien and Doran had been the first to claim the dance floor and seemed not to notice anyone else in the room. The others knew well of their deep friendship, and that it was purely platonic, more as siblings than anything else, though Haldir new nothing of this. They spoke quietly together as they danced, her arms linked behind his head and his around her waist, pulling her close to him. She was telling him of Ameron and all that had happened while she was with him in Lorien, and he in turn spoke reassuring words to soothe her fears and doubts. To Haldir, however, they appeared as two lovers whispering sweet nothings to each other as they swayed together to the romantic music. It was too much for him. 

He watched, his eyes burning as Doran caressed her soft face, their lips coming tantalisingly closer, but then withdrawing in the same moment. He knew that his irrational feelings were most likely a result of the wine and that he simply had no right to feel such jealousy but he cared not, instead watching all the more intently. Mirien moved her face closer, until they were now dancing cheek to cheek, and they were whispering in each other's ear. His hands came up to caress her shoulders and she held him tighter with her arms behind him. 

"You look tired," a voice suddenly broke into his thoughts, causing him to jump in surprise. Cariell sat beside him with a grin. "This is your first time at one of our dinners. You lasted longer than many."

"What is Mirien's relationship to Doran?" he blurted out, nearly cutting her off. She grinned and looked to her commanding officers. 

"You like her, don't you?" she said. He looked down into his wine glass.

"Is it that obvious?" he muttered. She patted him on the shoulder and squeezed it reassuringly. 

"Don't worry, I won't tell a soul," she said. "But I recommend you find your bed before you learn what too much wine is like." She stood and helped him to his feet, escorting him to the door. On the other side of the room, Mirien looked up from Doran's shoulder and watched him go.


	9. Chapter Eight

AN: So this is where it starts to get interesting, eh? I had lots of fun with this one...and in case you feel it necessary to punish me for my ending, Haldir here is quite a good shot with his bow *motions to Galadhrim standing behind her with a wicked grin* Now go. Read.

Chapter Eight:

Current Mood: apprehensive 

Current Music: The Mummer's Dance- Loreena Mckennitt

__

Today went well. I was several officers short this morning after the party last night, and Haldir was nowhere to be found which, I assume, had something to do with the amount of wine he'd had. It's good to finally see him loosen up a little. 

I had a good talk with Doran last night about Ameron and the way things are going. He seems to think I did the right thing, although is somewhat upset that our marriage is ending. I told him that the idea of being on my own for once is rather appealing. All my life I've been with others, whether it was my parents, my tutors, my crew or Ameron. I like the idea of being able to do what I want for a change. 

We seem to be making good time to Mirkwood. Much quicker than usual. Tamar estimates we should be there by nightfall, and we're already passing the south of the forest now. I hadn't expected to be there until tomorrow afternoon, and I'm not sure if I want to go early or not. Travelling through Mirkwood is risky enough, travelling after dark is something else entirely. Maybe I'll ask Haldir what we should do, since he will be coming with me, after all.

Mirien stood at the bow of the ship as always, watching the last rays of _Anor_ disappear behind the mountains to her left. She watched the approaching forest with an unexplainable feeling of dread or, perhaps not so much dread as uneasiness. Her thoughts constantly dwelt on her parents and what they would say when she explained what had happened between her and Ameron. She shivered when she thought of what her father would say, but straightened, telling herself that she is now a grown elf. The time for obedience of parents' wishes has passed many years ago. She would approach the conversation as an adult, and demand they see her in the same way. She took a deep breath, as if finalising the decision.

"You seem tense," she heard behind her. She almost jumped at the sound, but managed to control the reaction. As calmly as she could she turned to look into the intoxicating silver gaze of Haldir, standing several feet behind her. _'Since when did I think of his eyes as intoxicating?'_ she wondered, but as they locked with hers, she realised she didn't care. Then, remembering he'd spoken first, she struggled to answer.

"I...I'm fine," she said lamely, berating herself for being caught off-guard, especially by the Galadhrim. By his expression he didn't seem convinced, but mercifully changed the subject anyway. 

"The view is beautiful," he said. She smiled immediately and turned back to the darkening sky with a nod. 

"Yes, it's my favourite time of day," she replied, clutching the handrail for support, trying desperately to get back her usual calm. "I always come here if I can help it, to watch _Anor_ sleep and _Ithil_ wake." Haldir came to stand beside her, joining her in her evening ritual. After several moments of uncomfortable silence, she turned to speak, stealthily backing away as she did. 

"We will arrive at the dock soon," she said, pointing ahead for emphasis. "It's just up beyond that outcropping," she motioned to a bit of land that was, from their present angle, seemingly in their path. "We'll drop anchor there and you and I will go ahead while the others prepare for unloading our cargo."

"Cargo?" Mirien smiled mischievously. 

"Lorien and Mirkwood are great trading partners, but I thought you already knew that," she said. He nodded, seemingly embarrassed at his lack of knowledge. 

"And you said we would be going alone? After dark? Is that not dangerous?" A sudden smirk twisted her features.

"You're not afraid, are you?" she teased. He seemed a bit taken aback at first, but returned the grin with one of his own.

"Of course not. You?"

"Not at all."

"Well good."

"Good." She paused, looking back at the forest, trying hard to really _not_ be afraid. "The dock is well within the defended southern borders," she said, more for her benefit than his. "We will most likely be met by a scouting party who will assist in the unloading of our goods." Haldir nodded at this. "And besides," she continued, "you said that your message is of great importance. Would you not wish to take it to the King with all haste rather than await the rest of the crew?" Haldir nodded again, but then another smirk graced his features. 

"Pretty convincing arguments," he said with mock seriousness, "but really, you could have just asked if you wished to be alone with me rather than arranging something so dangerous." Mirien stared at him in a mixture of confusion and offence before, seeing the jest for what it was, responding with a grin of her own. 

"Ai, Haldir," she said sweetly, "this is my ship. I don't need to make excuses if I wish to have you to myself!" They stared at each other for several seconds, as if trying to decide between them if the light-hearted joke was allowed between two such as them. Then all pretence crumbled with the sound of their laughter. 

Several hours of playful jesting later, as the stars shone bright and clear above the cool water, the dock was at last sighted. Preparations were made immediately for landing and the ship that was just moments ago quiet and peaceful was now alive with movement and the sound of orders being given and friendly jibes being taken. At last they came to a halt, and Mirien re-emerged from her chambers armed and carrying a pack for their hike to the Northern Kingdom. Haldir was just strapping on the last of his weapons as she approached.

"So, explain to me again why the dock is so far from the city," he stated, more than asked. Mirien began checking her own weapons as she spoke.

"First of all, it's not safe to have a port too close to the heart of the city, lest the Corsairs decide to use it to invade the realm. Second, this is the closest the Anduin gets to the woods. If we were to sail further north we would have to trek across open ground before reaching a single tree. Believe me, this is the only suitable place for this." Haldir nodded as he acknowledged the information for a second, or perhaps third time that day. He still didn't like that they were on the edge of the border. 

When the two were ready, Mirien said a fond farewell to her crew before she and Haldir walked down the ramp for the woods. As they entered the thick forest, Mirien's heart began to sense that not all was as it should be. She couldn't explain what was wrong, but knew it was important, and her hand strayed to her sword at the realisation. They had travelled silently for nearly half an hour on the elven path from the dock before Haldir voiced what she hadn't been able to put into words.

"Where are the scouts that were supposed to meet us?" he whispered, as if raising his voice would cause the trees to collapse on top of them. His words gripped her heart like an icy chill. _'Yes, where are they?!'_ her thoughts screamed. She stopped short and looked around. They were quite a distance away from the ship, and so yelling or running back would not be an option if they were to be...

Then she saw it. High above them, threaded between the branches of several nearby trees was the biggest spider's web she'd ever seen. She swallowed thickly and slowly unsheathed her sword, gripping the hilt tightly in her now sweaty palm.

"I don't think they're coming," she whispered, and when she turned to Haldir beside her, he saw naked fear in her blue eyes. Then he heard the hiss behind him.


	10. Chapter Nine

AN: So I remembered where this Inkling came from. Last November I went to the theatre to see 'Beyond Borders' with Angelina Jolie. That night this story was born on a couple sheets of paper at 2am. If you want to know where this story is going I highly recommend you watch it. It's an excellent movie that didn't do very well at all at the box office, something which I still don't understand. The core love story of the movie is where the Ameron/ Mirien/ Haldir triangle came from and as I watched it again last night it all came back to me. 

I hope you enjoy this new chapter. The plot thickens...considerably *wicked laughter*

-Melanye

Chapter Nine:

Current Mood: Predatory

Current Music: Hate to say I told you so – The Hives 

__

I do not like this. I never wanted to go into the forest so far south in the first place, and now we go after dark. In my opinion anywhere outside of Lothlorien is dangerous after dark. Anywhere outside Lasgalen? Much worse. The others stay to await the scouts from the city, and part of me wishes I could to, but Mirien does have a good point. Celeborn said Thranduil should receive my message as soon as possible. 

She seems in quite a hurry to go also. Even if my message could wait, I think part of me would still wish to go with her. She cannot go alone into that dark forest at night. But yet...I still think waiting untill morning would be better. I do not like this at all.

Haldir stopped.

"Where are the scouts that were supposed to meet us?" he whispered, peering into the trees as if he may find them. Beside him he heard Mirien's breath quicken and turned to see her look up. The faint ring of a sword being drawn reached his ears and he unconsciously did the same. 

"I don't think they're coming," she whispered back, sheer terror in her voice. She didn't like the woods any more than he did, he saw. It was a necessity that they travel through them, nothing more. He watched the expression on her face carefully, and saw her eyes suddenly shift from his to something behind him. Then he heard it...a hiss, at shoulder level. He felt his skin crawl and tried not to move, but it was too late. The sounds were all around them now, and as he looked up he saw the web, hanging ready to drop on them. 

In a blinding move, Haldir brought his sword up in a wide arc, halving the three spiders behind him in one stroke. At the same moment Mirien also erupted with a whirl of her blade and the battle was on. Little did they realise how deep in spider territory they were. The huge black bodies surrounded them, and their two blades were no match for the hundreds of legs and teeth and stingers. Mirien saw this, but there was little she could do about it. They were completely cornered. 

In the midst of battle she chanced to catch Haldir's eye for the briefest of moments, but it was all she needed. She saw the concern and fear in his eyes, not for himself, but for her. She prayed he saw the same in hers. It was that look, held longer than it should have been, that broke her deadly dance just long enough for one spindly spider's leg to break through her defences and sting her leg. She fell, unable to control the urge to clutch the wound, but it was her downfall. The spiders were on her immediately. He couldn't see her for the black mass of writhing spiders, but he heard her scream when they stung her, and it nearly killed him. The only thing that brought him back to the present was a claw scratching his own skin and he turned to swing his sword at as many of the foul creatures as he could. 

On and on he fought, and out of the corner of his eye he could see them beginning to spin the other elf in their hideous webs. Despair threatened to take over, but still he fought, thinking that at least one of them had to make it out alive. Dead spiders piled up around him, but still they came, stepping over their slain brethren to reach the warm-blooded elf in the centre. Just when he thought he would give up he saw an arrow bury itself in a spider in front of him. Then another went down and another. Elves had appeared out of nowhere and began fighting off the creatures with him. Soon they were overpowered, and those with any sense of self-preservation at all hissed their defeat and scurried off back into the woods. 

Haldir stumbled over the dead spiders to where Mirien lay, half encased in spider's silk on the ground. The most shocking part to him was that her eyes were closed, for rarely had he seen an elf's eyes closed save for when they were dead or severely wounded. He fell to his knees and his sword fell to the ground beside him, ignoring the others who had saved his life. They hung back as if they understood, allowing him his space. 

"Mirien?" an alarmed voice called from behind him. One of the wood elves rushed over and knelt by the fallen captain, opposite Haldir. He briefly met the Guardian's eyes and saw fleeting recognition in the silver gaze before checking over the elf beneath him. He ripped the webs away form her face and chest, feeling for a pulse. He then called to one of the other elves for medicine and bandages, exposing the several stingers and scratches along her arms and neck as he did. Suddenly out of his despair, Haldir finally had a name for the face of his saviour.

"_Thrandulion?"_ he asked in amazement, his voice a whisper. "Legolas, is it really you?" The other elf only paused long enough to glance up at his friend with a faint smile of confirmation before accepting the supplies from one of his scouts and setting to work. 

Mirien woke later that night seeing at first leaves against the stars. Her vision was blurry and her head and body ached, the pain forcing a quiet moan from her throat. She was still disoriented from the spider's venom, but nevertheless attempted to sit up. She managed to pull herself halfway up before a wave of nausea forced her back down. She turned onto her side, fighting the pain in her stomach, head and arms at the same time. 

She heard the leaves gently rustle behind her but did not turn, still trying to keep from being sick. Soft hands caressed her shoulders as whoever had come knelt behind her. One hand smoothed back her damp hair while the other rubbed cooling cream into her forehead and temples, massaging away her headache. When at last the nausea passed she gently rolled onto he back and slowly opened her eyes.

"Legolas," she said hoarsely. He smiled grimly at her while reaching up to continue his ministrations. She closed her eyes, grateful for his help.

"I am sorry we did not find you sooner," he said softly. She heard deep pain and hurt in his words. "We...lost the dock to darkness almost a month ago. There was no way to send word." Mirien felt her heart break at those words. She had helped build that dock. 

"Where is Haldir?" she asked. Legolas regarded her for a moment before answering. 

"He's fine. He's with the scouts," he motioned behind him. 

"Is he hurt?"

"No." He took his hands from her temples and began to check her bandages. The wounds were not deep and had already begun to heal, but the poison still held sway over the rest of her for the moment. He told her as much. 

"When do we leave?" she asked. He sighed.

"Soon. It is not safe here, I fear," he replied. "We do not usually travel this way anymore, you are lucky we found you at all." Mirien felt tears burn her eyes. 

"We will take back the dock," she said. "We have lost ground before and won it back." Legolas sighed in despair. 

"Mirien, you know how it is," he said in an anguished whisper. "For every inch of forest we save, we loose half of one somewhere else. My scouts are spread so thin that even where defence is possible it is not nearly effective enough. We are loosing."

"Send for help."

"We have sent for help," he said a bit too quickly and a bit too cynically. "None will come. We have even asked if the men of Dale would spare fighters. It is not an easy thing for father to ask of Men for aid." Mirien nodded, knowing well of the King's pride and stubbornness. She knew that Many long debates with Legolas had to have taken place before he would even consider requesting aid, much less from mortals. He smiled sadly and clutched her shoulder. "But I must not speak of such things to one whose task is to heal," he said quietly. She smiled back. 

"Then what should we speak of?" she asked, trying to sound happier. 

"How is Lorien?" he asked lightly.   
"Good." 

"And Ameron?" Without thinking she avoided the Prince's eyes and he nodded knowingly. "I see. Are you going to tell them?" he said after a pause. Her eyes again found his. As they stared at one another he slowly saw them begin to mist with tears.

"I...don't know what I will say," she said. There was a long silence as they listened to the woods around them. "I missed you," she said finally. "I miss our talks. We used to be able to talk about everything," she said, reaching for his hand. "What happened to those days?" He looked down at their joined hands before removing his from hers.

"You married," he said, "and we haven't 'talked' since."

"We're talking now."

"And?"

"There are days I wish it had been you." Legolas smiled grimly and stood.

"Your parents didn't want me," he replied, "and you always do what they tell you to do, don't you?" Mirien opened her mouth to respond, but closed it when she saw the look on his face. He made for the forest and then turned back to her. "I could have given you everything," he said. He gave her a long wanting look before melting back into the trees.


	11. Chapter Ten

AN: This took longer than expected, and I apologise. This week was...rather busy for me and I was unable to write. Thank you so much for your reviews, I really do appreciate them; I hope you all enjoy this chapter. 

You may not have noticed, but this story got flamed recently. I usually don't complain about flames, in fact, I do welcome them, if they are constructive criticism about the story- plot oversights and such. Anonymously leaving a URL to a 'mary-sue' definition site is not only cowardly, it's downright depressing. I've gone out of my way to make sure this story is as un-'fangirl-meets-fellowship' as possible, making an actual 'storyline' and 'plot', and all this person can do is read one chapter and pronounce the entire story worthless? They signed their 'name' as 'This is not Tolkien'. 

*clears throat, hauls out her 'Websters'*

****

Fantasy: A highly imaginative composition, as a story or play, portraying unrealistic characters or events

****

Fan: An enthusiast, devotee or admirer

****

Fiction: Imaginative prose literature; anything imagined, invented or feigned. 

*loudly snaps book shut*

Chapter Ten:

Current Mood: aggravated

Current Music: Everything to Everyone- Everclear

__

I ran into Mirien today. Literally. She and a messenger, Haldir, from Lorien, were being attacked by spiders near the dock. I am just glad they were not Orcs; Orcs are not as stupid as the spiders. It does not matter though, they were cornered. If we had not come...

I **knew** we should have left a patrol at the dock! Hopefully this attack will spark greater interest in protecting our only connection to our kin in Lothlorien. At least it would if those pushy advisors would stay out of it. Father is wise, but he leans too heavily on the advice of others and not enough on the judgement of those who actually know what is going on. 

I fear for Lasgalen, I really do.

"I could have given you everything." Legolas looked long and hard at the injured elf on the forest floor. He knew his words must have sounded cruel to her, for it had been she who had pursued him. 

But she had also been cruel.

Her marriage had hurt him more deeply than she'd ever known, more than anyone ever could. So much that he'd vowed never to open his heart in that way to another ever again, even if it was her. This was what went through his mind as he turned away from her to head back into the woods. He was so deep in thought that he didn't see the other elf waiting for him in the clearing.

"How is she?" It was Haldir, and Legolas wondered how much of their conversation he'd heard. He had wondered a lot about him since they'd met briefly during battle, and then later as he'd tended to Mirien. He knew Haldir from the few times he'd visited as a messenger of Celeborn. He had always thought him to be a strong person, very practical and level-headed, but when he'd seen him crouch over Mirien...he had his doubts. 

"She will be fine," he replied, "she is lucky she was only stung." At Haldir's inquisitive look he elaborated. "Too often our scouts 'disappear' after an attack." The marchwarden grimly nodded his understanding. There was an uncomfortable silence between them before the Prince continued. "Why have you come?" 

"I bear a message for your father," the other replied, motioning to his pack. Legolas nodded. Another meaningful silence followed. Then at once they spoke together.

"So do y-"

"What di-" They both laughed nervously, indicating for the other to continue. Legolas shook his head. "No, I insist." Haldir sighed, as if trying to avoid speaking, finally meeting Legolas' eyes.

"You know Mirien?" he asked. Legolas had to suppress the smirk he felt struggling to the surface.

"Of course I know her," he replied lightly, "her family lives in the palace." Haldir's eyebrow raised almost imperceptibly. _You mean you did not know? Interesting..._

"But she is not of the royal family," he probed, almost hopefully. Legolas sighed and let the smirk win.

"She is the daughter of my father's Chief Advisor. They live in the palace with us." Legolas caught Haldir's next question before he even opened his mouth, "and yes, we were...involved." Haldir absorbed the information and nodded.

"How 'involved'?" Legolas was about to answer, but then looked behind him. Turning back to Haldir, he took the other elf by the arm and led him further away from where Mirien lay. When he stopped he stood nearly face to face with the other elf.

"Listen," Legolas whispered, "I will only say this once: If you wish to become...'involved' with Mirien, the best thing you can do is walk away. Now." He made to leave, but Haldir pulled him back.

"Why?"

"_Besides_ the fact that she's married?" Shock. _She did not mention _that _little detail either. Her marriage must really be in trouble..._

"Married?" Legolas watched as the Lorien elf's face crumbled like so much dry leaves. He nodded.

"If you need any more reason to leave her alone, I can tell you what 'involved' means." Haldir just stared at him as if he didn't know if he wanted to hear it or not. "Years ago," he began, "Before she had reached her majority, we were together. I had known her since she was born, and we had always been friends, but as she grew older we...became close." Legolas paused, as if it was painful to recall. 

"We had four... years together," he said quieter, unable to find a suitable adjective for the memory. "Then she reached her majority." He looked up and caught the other elf's eyes. "She was betrothed to marry another- before she was born she was betrothed. She...neglected to mention it to me. In four years, she never once..." he turned away, and Haldir saw his shoulders shake. When he turned back, a pace away from him now, there was nothing to betray the emotions Haldir knew were just beneath the surface.

"All I can offer is advice," he continued, "even if you do not heed it." He held Haldir's eyes firmly, the blue depths saying a lot more than his words. "Do not get caught. That is all I can say, just do not get caught." He was about to leave again when Haldir stopped him.

"By who, her husband or her father?" Legolas stopped as he spoke. He turned, half looking over his shoulder. Haldir thought he saw a humourless smile on the other elf's face, as if he knew from experience. 

"Pick one."

Two hours later the scouts escorted Haldir and Mirien towards the city. Legolas led the way, and after careful consideration, he allowed Haldir to carry Mirien. He would have had one of his scouts take her and have Haldir with him, but somehow he knew the marchwarden would never allow it. He would have taken her himself, but he needed his eyes and ears to look out for danger on the way- he could not afford the distraction. 

It was just after midnight when they broke camp, and they did not stop their journey until they were in the city that morning. A few hours after daybreak they were within the gates, guards everywhere, greeting their prince and some sparing sympathetic looks to the unconscious elf in Haldir's arms. Legolas guided Haldir through the city towards the palace, leading him through the stone archway and through the surprisingly light and airy halls of the stronghold. 

He wondered how something that was carved our of sheer rock could feel so open and... _elven_. He had always thought that stonework was reserved solely for the dwarves, although he knew that the fortress in North Lasgalen was built by dwarves back when there was still peace between the two races. He could see that friendship in the craftsmanship around him- every care was taken to see that there was as much openness as possible. Even the stone was worked in an almost organic way- carved into the likeness of trees and foliage. The archway they passed through seemed to be two great trees whose boughs met above them. 

The fortress itself, though stone all around with strong high walls, had very little roof. Only in the centre of the castle was there any sort of enclosure above, and this was most likely removable, only put up to keep out the rain. The outer edges were covered by the boughs of the thick trees around it, providing the illusion, to those who called the stone tower 'home,' of living in the forest. Haldir had stayed in this outer edge whenever he had visited and, although it wasn't his flet in Lothlorien, it served him well enough for the week or so he was there. 

The group was whisked inside the tower, and Legolas led Haldir down a long hallway, through several doors and rooms on what, presumably, was the fastest route to the healing rooms. Several elves tried to greet their Prince, but he brushed past them, too intent on getting Mirien to a healer. Some of them nodded their understanding, others gasped in either surprise or offence, Haldir could not decide. At last they entered into a cool, brightly lit chamber which could only be the main healing room. Legolas turned to Haldir and relieved him of his sleeping burden, laying her on an already prepared bed. An elf wandered out of some sort of office after hearing movement.

"_Caunin,_" she greeted uncertainly, "_man le carel-_" she cut herself off as she saw the elf on the bed. She immediately knelt beside her and began to look over her injuries. They looked on as the healer uncovered several wounds, all of which seem to have mostly healed. "_Lhingril,"_ she said, more as a statement than a question. Legolas nodded, more to himself than in answer. The healer looked up and called to another elf in another office, instructing him to find Mirien's parents. The much younger elf nodded and hurriedly left on his quest. ***My prince...what are you (doing)...spiders***

Legolas and Haldir found seats while the healer, named Salébiel, cleaned and re-bandaged the wounds. Later she took statements from them as to what happened, jotting down details with a swift hand, and left them to stay with the patient. 

After what seemed like hours, but was really only several minutes, the younger healer returned with two very concerned looking elves. Haldir saw them first, and when Legolas looked up he saw- or thought he saw- the muscles in the Prince's jaw tighten as they entered. The female floated forward as soon as she saw Mirien, anguish on her face. She cried out her daughter's name and knelt by her bedside, soothingly stroking her hand. This he had expected. What Haldir did not expect was the look he caught between Legolas and Mirien's father- harder than the stone of the stronghold they stood in.


	12. Chapter Eleven

AN: meekly enters the room I am SO sorry for not writing sooner. I tried, I really did, but there's been so much happening in the Real!World…I just didn't have the time to type it up. I promise to try and update sooner next time (and make a longer chapter…I can't WAIT to get the next few out bg). Thank you so much to everyone for sticking with me for this chapter. Sorry to have to say there's a minor Kleenex Warning for this one.

Okay, I won't keep you any longer…runs off

Chapter Eleven

Current Mood: weak

Current Music: 12 years old- Kim Stockwood

_This morning I woke up with the worst headache I've ever had. _

_After we left the ship, Haldir and I were attacked by spiders. I was stung several times, but luckily Haldir was unhurt. Legolas and his scouts found us and brought us back to Lasgalen._

_Doran and Cariell came to see me this morning, which helped my mood somewhat. They said that the crew arrived without incident and are all enjoying their time in the city. Doran tells me Haldir delivered his message as soon as he could gain audience with the King, and that when he'd left the court he seemed…upset. I want to ask him about it later, I don't even know what the message was._

Salébiel tells me that I'm healing well, and that the dizziness is normal after being injected with so much venom. She said it will be at least a day or so until I'm back to normal, and until then I have been restricted to the healing wards. I'm starting to get a little restless. I'd rather be doing something – anything other than just sitting here.

At least they brought me my favorite chair.

Mirien sat sprawled across the arms of the large, soft chair dominating the corner of her room, idly braiding her hair. On the floor in a circle around her lay a myriad of various items – a stack of books, paper and quill, a pitcher and glass of water and a half-empty food tray. After several escape attempts, Salébiel thought it best that Mirien be confined, lest she exert herself and become more sick than she already was.

After finishing off the end of one braid, she tossed it over her shoulder with a sigh and picked up the book that lay open on top of the pile. She'd been reading it off and on all morning, hoping to keep her mind off trying to leave her 'prison', but knowing that it was for her own good. She wasn't really paying attention to the words on the page, instead going through all the concerns her mind was plagued with. What was Haldir's message? Why did it upset him? What was the King's response? And most importantly, why does Haldir's being upset bother her so much? But that wasn't all that was on her mind.

Every few moments, thoughts of her parents would work their way into her mind. She knew they had come to see her when she'd been brought in, but hadn't seen them since she'd woken. She couldn't help the feeling of scared excitement at the thought that they could come at any moment to see her. Part of her, a big part, wanted desperately to see them again - it had been a long time since she had been held close in her mother's warm embrace. But there was still a part of her that feared their meeting. She still did not have the words she needed to explain her feelings towards Ameron, and she knew they wouldn't understand. At least her father wouldn't.

It was then, nearly noontime, when she looked up from her book at the sound of the door opening. Somehow, she wasn't at all surprised to see her parents walk in, but still she felt the jolt of shock (or was it fear?) at finally seeing them. With a trembling hand she lay her book back down and opened her arms to embrace her mother, finally feeling the safety of her arms around her.

"My dear child," she cooed at her daughter. "I am so glad to see you safe. I was so worried when they told me what had happened!" She released her and sat one of the chairs her father had brought over. Mirien looked up, caught in his gaze that made her feel more like an elfling than a Captain.

"You are well," he asked, sounding more like a statement than a question. Somehow, he always managed to make the simplest question sound like an interrogation.

"Yes," she answered hesitantly, "the healers say I should be fine by tomorrow."

"Good, then you can attend the banquet tomorrow evening," he said curtly. Her mother turned to look at him over her shoulder.

"Almerin, please, is that necessary? She should rest and recov-"

"She said she will be healed by then," he responded, cutting her off, "and she will have today and tomorrow to rest."

"I would, Ada, but I really think that I should-"

"It is the celebration for the anniversary of the King's conception. As daughter of the Chief Advisor you will be expected to attend." Mirien opened her mouth to protest further, but closed it again, realizing the futility of such a gesture. She learned at a very young age not to ever argue with him.

"Yes, Adar," she said meekly, lowering her head. Almerin looked as if he were about to continue when an elf appeared in the doorway.

"My Lord? The King asks for you." All three of them looked up at the words and Almerin turned back to smile apologetically at his daughter. Leaning forward, he took her face in his hands and kissed her on the forehead before rising from his seat.

"I will come back to see you later," he said with a warmth that surprised her. She nodded mutely and watched him leave.

"Well, I am so glad to have you back," her mother began as if they had been deep in conversation for the past while. She didn't seem to notice her daughter's awkwardness at all. "Everyone has been wondering how you're doing. I knew when you married that I would be seeing you less and less, but it still would be nice to have more time with my only daughter," she said, punctuating her statement with a soft caress of Mirien's cheek. She leaned into the touch, grateful for her mother's warmth that somehow made it easier for her to bring up what's been troubling her.

"Nana," she said quietly, unable to meet her mother's eyes. Concerned, she tilted her daughter's chin up to look full on her face.

"What's troubling you, _mela_?" Mirien sighed, and decided it best to be direct.

"Have you ever…fallen out of love…with Adar?" she asked. Her mother stared at her for a moment, as if deciding whether her daughter was being serious or not, before frowning.

"I don't understand, how do you mean?" Mirien sighed again and sat straighter in her chair, clasping her hands in her lap and studying them as if they held the answers to all her questions.

"I mean…have you ever, even just briefly, _not _loved him?" She looked up hopefully at her mother once again to find her seriously considering the question.

"Well," she said after a moment, "I suppose sometimes after he'd disciplined either you or your brothers for something when you were children, bu-"

"No, nana, that's not what I mean," she interrupted, instantly feeling guilty for cutting her mother off. "You just feel…well, nothing. You don't feel anything for him at all, and cannot understand why…" she trailed off. Her mother looked closer at her and lay a hand on her shoulder.

"Mirien, is something wrong between you and Ameron?" she asked gently. Mirien looked up, feeling tears pricking her eyes.

"We have decided to separate," she whispered. She watched as her mother's face crumbled in what might have been pain, or sympathy. Reaching for her daughter, she enveloped her in a tight, comforting hug, listening with a mother's love to her daughter's weeping.


	13. Chapter Twelve

AN: (meekly) I'm sorry! I meant to get this here sooner, I really did! It's just…life is so…intrusive! I haven't really had the time or the (dare I say it) will gasp to write in a while. Somehow, I got this chapter done. Believe me, I haven't given up on this story. I'm constantly thinking about new plot direction. I have not forgotten about you! (hugs readers)

Oh, by the way, you can search for this story on under 'elvendiaries'. Just so you know. (grin)

So without further ado….Oh! before I forget: **Amber Rose**, PLEASE e-mail me! pouts

Okay. Story. shakes head Poor Ameron…poor poor Ameron…

Chapter Twelve:

Current Mood: Confused

Current Music: Why- Annie Lennox

_What is it about me that Mirien dislikes so much? I have tried to be a good husband to her; how have I failed? Was I too possessive and needy? Not enough? How can one just grow out of love with another, one who they claimed held their heart?_

Perhaps this is all for the best. Father taught me that all things happen for a reason, according to the plan of Illuvatar. Perhaps in his plan we were never meant to be? I must accept this- I must let her go.

Ameron stood at attention at the foot of the Great Stair leading up to the dwelling of the Lord and Lady of the Wood. Beside him, also on guard stood Tamar, one of his peers under Haldir's command. Ameron liked him, although Tamar was generally a quiet elf who kept to himself and never socialized with the others off duty. As they now stood guard together he realized how little he actually knew about him.

"Tamar," he whispered. The meadow around them was still and quiet, and he did not wish to break the calm. The other elf looked over at him questioningly. "Do you have any family?" he asked. Tamar looked almost unsettled at the question, but calm quickly replaced it.

"Yes," he replied softly, "my mother and father, they live in the north." He paused, and Ameron thought he had finished, but Tamar continued. "and my sister, she is here with me, but she has a family of her own." He smiled when he said this, his face almost glowing. In that moment he looked infinitely beautiful to Ameron.

"And you, are you married?" Ameron asked. The smile became softer, warmer at this question.

"Yes," he responded. "She is my life; as one of the Maiar to me. We love each other with all of our being but," he paused briefly and lowered his head slightly. "The Valar have not yet blessed us with a child," he finished softly. Ameron nodded his understanding.

"I have heard," he said, "that it is impossible to know or understand the ways of Eru or the Holy Ones, but they do know and understand us. Perhaps they only wait for the right time for that gift?" Tamar looked him in the eye and gifted him with a small smile.

"You comfort me, _mellon,_" he said. There was a pause, as if the conversation had finished. Ameron resumed his watch duty, when Tamar spoke again. "And you- are you also married?" he asked. Ameron avoided the other's gaze, looking to the ground benieth his feet, but nodded. "Why do you seem ashamed? Do you not love your wife?" Ameron looked up at this comment almost in shock.

"Of course I do," he said defensively. He then caught himself and paused, taking a deep breath before continuing in a softer voice. "I lover her perhaps too much." There was a long length of silence between them as the words seemed to hang in the air and taunt their speaker. Tamar, like Ameron earlier, accepted that the conversation had finished and resumed his guard duty, when the other elf spoke again. "My wife," he began slowly, "has decided that we need some time apart." Tamar considered his words for a moment before responding.

"It is common that some couples need time apart if they spend too many years together," he said gently. Ameron shook his head.

"No, you do not understand," he corrected. "My wife wishes that we separate. She wants to end our marriage." Silence followed, and this time deepened.

"End?" Tamar said the word as if it were of a foreign tongue. "Elven marriages do not 'end'," he said. "It is the binding of _fea_ to _fea_, they cannot be separated!" Ameron bowed his head again and sighed.

"You are right, Tamar, but that does not change the fact that we feel like strangers to each other. Perhaps our souls never bonded?" His voice had a defeated tone to it that made Tamar's heart ache.

"I do not believe that," he prodded. "You married. There must have been some time when you loved her and she returned that love."

"I _thought_ so," Ameron replied dejectedly, "now I doubt even those feelings." He paused and looked into the other elf's eyes, unafraid now to show his pain. "I do not know what I will do without her," he whispered. Tamar sighed and considered for a long time his next words.

"I cannot imagine having to deal with what you face," he said, "but if I were in your position, I would make every effort to win back her love. Do not accept defeat. Every relationship waxes and wanes with time." Tamar moved closer and took the other elf gently by the shoulders, emphasizing his next words with a light squeeze. "Do not let yours fade completely."

Ameron nodded mutely as he listened. He was still lost in thought as Tamar let go of his shoulders and they resumed their watch in silence. As time passed he pondered the advice given. He thought long and hard about what he should do. When dawn began to break several hours later, and their replacements came to relieve them, Ameron had made his decision. He would go to Mirkwood. He would go as soon as he was able and attempt to win back the love of his wife. He would not fail.


	14. Chapter Thirteen

AN: Here it is! Much faster than last time! (proud) Things are about to get interesting…(evil grin)

Oh, and Fanfic-dot-net apparently doesn't like even short web addresses, so I'll put it here with spaces instead: http :www - livejournal - com /users /elvendiaries/ You need to have a journal, and be 'friended' to read the…not 'PG' chapters, but if you want on e-mail me or comment.

K, now story. I promise to update sooner this time…the next chapter is almost finished. (maniacal giggle)

Chapter Thirteen:

Current Mood: alarmed

Current Music: Midnight in Chelsea- Jon Bon Jovi

_Why did he choose me? Why did Celeborn choose _me_ to deliver his message? And why did he not inform me of its content beforehand rather than sending a sealed document? The next time he wants to say 'no' to Thranduil, he can do it himself!_

_I am well aware of the terrible situation in Mirkwood, but I am also painfully aware of the situation in Lothlorien. We simply cannot afford to spare anyone to aid the fighters of Greenwood – we can barely defend our own land against the shadow. And Thranduil stubbornly refuses to understand this! He had the audacity to accuse me of being 'unsympathetic' to their plight! Saying that we 'pampered Noldo' have no idea what true need is!_

After my meeting with Thranduil I was so aggravated I sought out a place to be alone and calm myself with meditation. I had not been sitting an hour when I was disturbed out of my thoughts by an intruder. The next time I go looking for someplace quiet in Mirkwood, it certainly will not be in the Hall of Records.

Doran wandered through the rows of scrolls and books, touching faded spines and leafing through piles of dusty parchments. He wasn't sure what he as looking for, but he was hoping he would find something interesting in Thranduil's library. He had long since read through the books in Lothlorien, something written in another realm would be quite refreshing.

His eye caught another shelf filled almost to bursting with small leather bound books. He walked over to it and tried to pry one of the dusty volumes out from between its brethren. After a short struggle the book finally came loose and fell to the floor, taking many others with it.

"Who's in charge of this place?" he muttered incredulously to himself. He knelt to pick up the pile of dust and parchment when he noticed the other elf sitting with his back to the wall beside the bookshelf, glaring at him. "Oh," he said, dropping the collected books in surprise. Another cloud of dust floated up from them. "I did not realize there was someone here."

"And I did not expect anyone else to come here," Haldir replied. "I was meditating." Doran again began to gather up the fallen literature as he replied.

"Among books and ledgers? He asked, "why would you seek calm here and not in the gardens or even your own chambers?"

"I did not wish to be disturbed," Haldir replied. "I was certain that if I went to those places I could be sought out by those who…I do not wish to speak with."

"I see," said Doran, mildly embarrassed. "I apologize for intruding. I will leave you now." He quickly finished collecting the papers and rose to stuff them back in the bookcase.

"Wait," he heard behind him just as he had turned to leave. "I did not mean to imply that you were among those I am avoiding," he said apologetically. Doran slowly turned and regarded the marchwarden.

"May I ask who is?" he said carefully. Haldir seemed to consider whether to answer or not, and then sighed, smiled and gestured for Doran to join him.

"Any member of the royal family, right now," he replied as Doran settled himself down on the floor beside him.

"You will not be able to avoid them for long, the banquet is tonight, you know. We are all invited." When Haldir did not respond, Doran smirked and added, "including Mirien." Haldir's head shot up at the comment and Doran chuckled softly. "Fear not, my friend, I will not say a word to her." Haldir sighed and shook his head.

"It is not proper for me to be lusting after a married woman."

"She may not be married for much longer," Doran, sighed, "she and her husband have separated." Haldir almost succeeded in looking calm at the statement, but Doran saw the flicker of hope in his eyes.

"Have you spoken to her? Is she okay?" he asked, smoothly changing the subject.

"Yes, she is fine," he assured him. "I saw her yesterday. In fact, she asked about you. She wanted to be sure you were well taken care of. She became concerned when Cariell mentioned that you seemed upset after speaking with the King."

"She heard about that, did she?" Haldir said in an almost embarrassed tone. He sighed again and looked at Doran. "Several months ago, Thranduil sent a message to Lord Celeborn requesting aid in defending the Greenwood. Yesterday, I bore our lord's response: 'No.'" Doran winced visibly.

"I assume that did not go over well."

"You assume correctly," Haldir grumbled. "Now I am in a difficult position – to attend a party in honor of the conception of an elf with whom I had so recently argued bitterly with. It may be best if I do not attend."

"I think you should," Doran said after a moment in thought. "You are not just Celeborn's messenger, you are also his representative," he explained. "Being present for the King's conception festival would show him that Lothlorien, and you as well, holds no ill feelings towards Mirkwood and her king. That gesture alone could go a long way towards repairing our, shall we say, 'fragile' relations with our Silvan cousins. At least," Doran continued as he stood, "it's worth a try." Haldir sat thoughtfully going over these words as Doran grabbed a book off the shelf on his way out of the library.

Several hours later, as the light above the trees began to take on the distinct deep gold of evening, Haldir at last stood from his meditations. He had been right that no one came here, save Doran of course, and he had not been disturbed since the other elf had left.

He had made his decision – he would go to the banquet as a representative of his lord. He would be _civil_ to Thranduil. He would refrain from openly gazing at Mirien.

He paused.

Where had _that_ thought come from?

After stopping by his chambers and dressing in his finest robes, he set off towards the Great Hall. On the way he had to walk through many halls with doors to other chambers. He didn't think anything of it until he rounded a corner just in time to see another elf slam a door. He stopped in his tracks and stared, thinking to himself how rude such an act was. The other elf looked around the corridor and then turned and stormed off in the direction of the Great Hall.

Haldir stayed where he was for several minutes, trying to make sense out of what he'd seen. He had hidden behind the wall as the other elf looked around, seemingly to see if he was being watched. He pressed a hand to his pounding heart and took a deep breath. 'There has to be a good explanation for this,' he thought. 'That was Mirien's father.' After taking a moment, he started back down the corridor, but as he passed the door Almerin had closed he stopped. Behind the beautifully carved oak door, he heard crying.

Before he could think better of it, he knocked softly on the door. After receiving no response, he tried again, and a third time. Finally he reached for the handle and gently turned. Nothing he could have imagined would have prepared him for what he saw. On the floor, hugging her knees wearing a roughly torn dress, was Mirien. He whispered her name in disbelief, but found himself rooted to the floor.

Mirien lifted her head and two tearful sapphire eyes bored into him. With that it was as if the spell keeping him paralyzed had been lifted and he rushed to kneel by her side. He lifted a hand to smooth back her hair, but it was as if he was afraid he would damage her by his touch. She looked at him, trying desperately to calm her tears, but instead reached out for him, burying her face in his chest. She clung to him like a lifeline, sobbing while he hesitantly wrapped his arms around her.

"Oh, Mirien," he whispered into her hair, "what happened? Why did he do this to you?" As he said this she let go of him and clumsily picked herself up. He stood and gently helped her.

"It - it's nothing," she said between sobs as she headed to the back room, "he just didn't like the dress."


	15. Chapter Fourteen

AN: Here it is, to end your torment (more evil laughter) Or is it just beginning? (creepy music)

**Chapter Fourteen:**

Current Mood: crushed

Current Music: Don't Cry- Guns'n'Roses

_I'm feeling much better now. Salébiel has released me to my own chambers this afternoon, although ordered me to 'take it easy' for the next few days. I have to admit, I don't quite feel like myself yet, but at least the headaches and dizziness are gone._

_The banquet for the King is tonight and, although father says I am expected to attend, I don't really want to. These formal functions are all the same – all etiquette and protocol, everyone dressed in their finery, one noble trying to outdo the other. The whole thing gives me a headache. I would much rather have a merry gathering with my crew…I haven't seen them all since we got here. And Haldir…_

Mirien puttered around her chambers as she made ready for the banquet that evening. The only thing left for her to do was to choose her attire, which, she knew, was the hardest task of all.

She opened her closet and began going through her extensive formal wardrobe. The daughter of the King's advisor is required to attend far more formal functions than she would like to have, and that meant she had a dress for any conceivable occasion. Her hands lingered on several possibilities, but always she found something wrong with them. She almost settled on the flowing leaf green silk and gossamer dress with the sheer wrap. She remembered fondly how much Legolas had loved that dress, which was precisely why it remained in the closet.

She went through several more candidates, not really sure what exactly she was looking for, when she found it - the light, delicately sheer blue and silver evening gown. She wasted no time in donning the garment and then went back to admire it in her mirror. It was made of layer upon layer of completely sheer fabric, just enough layers to conceal what modesty demanded but remain sheer enough to be incredibly sexy. She felt stunningly beautiful in it, and in her heart secretly hoped Haldir would think so as well. She'd seen the way he had looked at her that night on the ship, the jealousy in his eyes as she danced with Doran. He didn't know, couldn't know, how she felt about him, how it was difficult for her to keep her eyes off him, how she would start a conversation with him just for the sake of hearing his voice. Yes, she mused, this was the dress.

She was just about to start selecting matching jewelry when she heard a knock at her door. She turned to answer it and entered the main room in time to see her father close her door. Unconsciously she took a step back. The expression on his face and the aura around him were definitely not ones of fatherly love.

"Adar?"

"Is that what you are wearing to the banquet?" he accused. She tried to answer but he wouldn't let her. "I just spoke with your mother," he continued, cutting her off. "She said that you and Ameron are separated, is this true?"

"Adar, please," she said in a calm, yet shaking voice, "you don't understand - "

"_**Is this true?**_" he repeated harshly. She stared at him, almost in challenge, before answering.

"Yes, but – "

"Do you have any idea what the consequences of your separation would be?" He took a step forward and she backed away.

"Adar please, lower your voice," she begged.

"Did it ever enter into your thought what that would do to the already weakening relations with Lorien?" he continued, slightly louder as if he hadn't heard her.

"We were going to keep it quiet," she tried to explain.

"And here you are, dressed like a tramp to attract the next elf to your bed!"

"How dare you?" her words were cut off as she was slapped across the face. Hard.

"I will not have my daughter acting like a whore for all to see," he growled at her. She shivered as his breath brushed her ear. "So you," he continued, "will march right back in there," he gripped the bodice of her dress, "and change." Just as she opened her mouth to protest he pulled on the delicate material and the sound of tearing fabric filled the room.

"Adar, please!" she cried, close to tears. "Please, stop this!" He didn't hear her and continued his work until the beautiful dress was hardly recognizable and quite irreparable. Once finished, he admired his work with a cruel smirk before catching her eyes in a cold glare. His hand shot up and grabbed her chin in an iron grip, bringing her face close to his.

"Now," he whispered harshly, "change into something more appropriate. This dress is quite immodest, don't you think?" He held her eyes until hers misted over and she began to whimper.

"Yes, Adar," she said in a strangled whisper. He roughly let go of her and walked to the door. Mirien lifted a hand to her face, already feeling a bruise forming where he'd held her. She watched as he walked to the door and reached for the handle. "Don't be late," he growled at her over his shoulder before opening the door and slamming it shut behind him. Seconds later, after the initial shock passed, she slumped to the ground, sobbing.

Scant moments, it seemed to her, she heard a knock at her door. Cold fear gripped her heart and she backed as far away from the door as she could, until she was pressed against the opposite wall. Wild fantasies of her father returning to chastise her further entered her mind and she whimpered, knowing she would never be strong enough to face him a second time.

Another, more insistent knock filled the air and she hastily drew up her knees and clutched them tightly to her chest. Her body began to shake with the fear that now flowed through her as abundantly as her own blood. A third knock. She hid her face in her knees and sobbed, digging her nails into her legs as she heard the door click open, and then softly shut again. An eternity of silence followed. It was as if time for her had stopped while she waited.

"Mirien?" The voice was so soft, so soothing and loving that it caught her off guard. This was not her father's voice. Almost afraid it would be a dream, she looked up slowly, hesitantly. Haldir's worry-ridden face filled her with both calming peace and intense embarrassment. She watched, nearly paralyzed, as he rushed towards her and knelt by her side.

He was so close, so wonderfully close to her. She could smell his scent mingling with her own between them and felt a momentary flutter of excitement inside. It was in sharp contrast to the hurt and sadness she still felt, and the complexity of the emotions overwhelmed her. Just as she saw him reach out for her she broke into uncontrollable sobs.

Before she realized it she reached for him, thinking that perhaps if they were closer her emotions would become bearable. She suddenly, on top of everything else, felt shame. She had always been over emotional, ever since she was a girl. It was difficult to control sometimes, and often got her into trouble. She cried now, for she believed she had just ruined her already rocky relationship with Haldir. She barely knew him, yet was crying on his shoulder, asking him to soothe her pain.

Gentle arms encircled her and pulled her closer to him. Her hands gripped his shoulders tighter and she relaxed into the embrace. She felt hands rubbing her back soothingly and his head resting atop hers. "Oh Mirien," he whispered. "What happened? Why did he do this to you?" She froze. She hadn't realized he could know it was her father who had caused such hurt. Always she had kept such things quiet, not allowing anyone else to get involved in private matters. She remembered once, long ago, Legolas had tried. Being so close to her, he found out about her strict father and tried to come between them, but-

No, she didn't want to think about that.

She stood.

"It- it's nothing," she explained weakly. "He just didn't like the dress." She turned and headed to her bedroom, clutching the tattered remains of her gown to her as she went. Behind her Haldir stood for a moment in disbelief of what he had just heard before following.

"Nothing? Mirien, he attacked you!" he cried. "How can you defend him after what he did?" He stood in the doorway of her room while she stood in the center of the room, frozen still with her back to him. He watched her sadly as her shoulders shook silently. "He can't do this to you, Mirien, it's not right," he continued softly, "you're stronger than this." She turned abruptly at this and he saw anger flicker briefly in her eyes.

"You don't know me," she said, backing away from him. "You can't talk about what you don't know! It's just…" she paused, searching for words and finding none that fit, "you just don't understand." He shook his head at her.

"You're right," he admitted, "I don't understand how you allow your father to hurt you like this. Why do you not fight back?" He watched as her mouth opened and closed several times as she tried desperately to answer him. Finally, she did.

"I don't know how," she whispered shamefully, lowering her head. He sighed and came towards her. He stood in front of her and lifted her head with his finger so that she looked into his eyes. Wiping a tear from her cheek, he promised,

"That will change."


	16. Chapter Fifteen

AN: Here it is! The plot finally thickens! Please review, I'm starved for attention! (pouts)****

**Chapter Fifteen:**

Current mood: playful

Current music: Full Moon- Brandy

_'Tonight was…interesting…._

After Mirien assured him she would be okay, Haldir continued on towards the Great Hall. Worry still gnawed at the back of his mind and he wanted nothing more than to go back and wait for her, but by the time he'd made the decision to do so he had already come to his destination. Before he knew it he was being waved in through the tall graceful stone arches at the entrance by two serious looking elves with pikes. Apparently Thranduil had a thing for security.

Inside, the spacious hall was crowded with elves all dressed in glittering formal attire. Tables were scattered about one end of the hall, leaving the other open for mingling and dancing. The north wall was lined with one long table for the royal family, more ornately decorated than any others. Haldir saw that Mirien's parents sat at that table, with her father at the King's left side. He scowled.

"Haldir!" someone greeted from across the hall. He turned to see Doran and Cariell wading through the throng towards him. When at last they were standing close enough to hear each other over the music and thousands of elven voices, Doran continued. "You came!" he said in mock surprise.

"You look great, Haldir," Cariell said, "blue is really your color." She herself was wearing a gown the color of autumn leaves that did nothing but flatter her natural beauty. "Where is Mirien?" she asked, "dinner is about to begin; they will be seating us soon." Haldir looked behind him at the door he'd come through.

"I'm sure she'll be here soon," he said, more to himself than to the others. He followed the chattering pair to a table near the head of the room where many of Mirien's crew already sat. He was about to take a seat next to Doran when he was tapped on the shoulder from behind.

"Haldir," Legolas said, stunning in his princely attire and crowned with a thin band of _Mirthril_. "My father has requested that, as an emissary of the Golden Wood, you sit by me." Haldir regarded the prince for a moment before replying.

"Not by him?" he asked. Legolas' pleasant smile turned upwards into a smirk.

"I fear something tragic might happen were you to sit together," he said. Haldir chuckled and followed the Sinda to the head table, ignoring the open mouthed expressions of awe on the faces of his shipmates. "I apologize for my father's behavior," Legolas muttered softly once they were out of earshot of the others. He maneuvered them past the table to a small alcove nearby where they could talk.

"He has been under a great deal of stress lately," he continued, "not only are our borders being assailed almost daily now, but also…" he paused and looked to see that they were indeed alone. He stepped closer to Haldir so he could whisper. "There have been rumors," he said, and Haldir heard the fear in the Prince's voice. "They say that evil again stirs in the Black Lands. Some say the Nine are abroad again, and that they may wish to retake Dol Guldur." He stepped away from the other elf to better gauge his reaction. Himself, Haldir didn't know what to say. Legolas continued on, lowering his head. That gesture reminded him sharply how young the Prince was compared to him. "I know it's no excuse," he apologized, "I only wish for you to understand our situation. We are becoming desperate. Many in the kingdom are talking of an alliance with Lorien, or even abandoning Lasgalen altogether. Father has heard these rumors, and…" Haldir stepped forward and placed his hands on the Sindar's shoulders.

"You need not apologize for him, _mellon_," he said softly. Legolas looked up, gratitude plain in his eyes. "All of _Endor_ is becoming dangerous. It isn't easy for anyone, especially the elves. I do sympathize with the situation, and indeed it would be a great loss to us all if Lasgalen were to fall, but we simply have no one to spare." Legolas lowered his head again and nodded.

"I understand," he whispered. They headed to their seats as the crowd slowly found theirs. Haldir became impatient when most people had found their seats and still Mirien had not come. Just as the last few sat, however, the doors opened one more time, admitting the most beautiful elf he had ever seen.

There was a hush, for no more than a heartbeat, as if everyone in the room had stopped and looked, but then quickly went back to their conversations so as not to be caught staring. She has chosen to wear the green dress, the one she knew Legolas liked so much. It was the rich color of the forest, and made her seem as one who belonged more in the boughs above them than in the halls around them. Her hair was gathered on the top of her head and fell in a cascade of golden waves about her shoulders. All this Haldir noticed, but found himself trapped by the unrelenting gaze she fixed on him. Thankfully, Legolas brought him out of it by nudging him with his elbow.

"You should take care," he whispered to him as Haldir watched Mirien cross the hall to where her parents sat. "There are those in this hall who would not react well to such a look between the two of you." As he said this, the Prince subtly motioned to his left and Haldir watched the Advisor and his wife greet their daughter. He tasted bile in his throat as he saw Almerin kiss her forehead lovingly and insist she sit by him, between him and his wife. "Seems like such a good father, doesn't he?" Legolas whispered, to which Haldir snorted in a mixture of amusement and disgust. Legolas was about to say something else, but his father cleared his throat and stood. The room immediately fell silent.

"Thank you all for coming," he began in the pleasant yet commanding voice of a true King. "This is a day for joy," he went on. Haldir saw Legolas lightly roll his eyes and smirked. "A day to celebrate life and happiness. Even though the darkness lurks on our borders, threatening to take our land and our lives, we will continue to celebrate, even simple things such as our begetting days; the days our lives began. Today is not just a simple celebration, however. It is a message to those who would destroy us, that even though we may be threatened, we will still continue to live!" The king ended his short speech to a round of applause from the assembled guests. He looked around him in satisfaction, seeing that his goal to boost morale had been successful, if only to keep spirits up until the end of the evening.

He sat down and signaled to the servants who began to bring out the first course of what would turn out to be quite a lavish affair. Soon everyone was lost in the business of eating and drinking, talking and laughing. The war on their borders and petty familial problems seemed very far away, and it seemed as though the King's remedy for his kingdom's depression was working.

All the good feelings created by the joyous atmosphere faded like so much smoke in the wind when the doors to the hall burst open.

"AAAAHHHGGGHH!!!" A piercing, pitiful wail sliced through the air, halting every conversation in the room and turning every eye to the source of the horrible sound. The King rose from his seat as the intruders approached his table. In that moment, a guard came running in behind them and somehow managed to bow in mid-sprint.

"I beg your forgiveness, my liege, but he would not listen when I- " The guard stopped talking when Thranduil raised a hand to silence him, eyes still trained on the approaching figures.

"_Estel_," he said to the man who now stood before him. "What is the meaning of this?" he motioned with his outstretched arm to the pitiable, yet seemingly vicious creature tethered at the man's feet, from who the cry had come.

"Apologies, my lord Thranduil," Estel responded, "this is a matter of great urgency." The creature hissed bitterly at the King as the monarch's eyes fixed on it, analyzing it with their piercing gaze.


	17. Chapter Sixteen

AN: I'm back! As I promised, the story only gets more interesting from now on! I've been waiting for this chapter for a long time and, I assume, so have you! Again, thank you all for reading this story, I wasn't sure I would even make it past chapter two, and now I'm on sixteen! If not for reviews, I don't think I would have kept up with it.

Well, enough talk, on with it!

**Chapter Sixteen:**

Current mood: indescribable

Current music: Overlap- Ani Defranco

_This can't be real. This night has gone from bad to intolerable, then from utterly frightening to unbelievably…sensual. No, maybe that's not the right word. It's just that…it was so unexpected._

The King and his court listened to Estel's tale of how Mithrandir had him track the pitiful creature, named 'Gollum', and capture him. Even as he told his tale, Gollum sat at his feet glaring death at any who would dare look upon him. After the initial shock and fright that went throughout the assembled guests, they began to look on him with a mixture of pity and yet great disgust. The king listened patiently, motioning at one point to a servant to set a place for the man once he'd finished speaking.

"So you see, sire," he finished, "yours was the closest and safest Kingdom to which he could be brought to and be kept safe until this matter can be more properly dealt with. I ask only that you watch that he does not escape." Thranduil considered the request carefully. He looked beside him to his son, then to his advisor, finally fixing his eyes on the wretched creature kneeling on the floor.

"Very well, Estel," he conceded, "he will stay here under guard, but I should expect Mithrandir to come swiftly to set this matter straight. A dangerous creature such as this can not be left to rot in our dungeon forever."

"I understand, my lord," Estel replied, bowing slightly. Thranduil motioned with his hand and two guards appeared to take Gollum by his 'leash'.

"What shall we do with him, my lord?" The question was directed at Legolas, who considered the matter carefully before replying.

"Take him to the northern dungeon," he commanded. "Give him whatever he requests for a meal and see that he is well guarded."

"If I may, Prince Legolas," Estel interjected. "Gollum is quite slippery to keep hold of," he said shooting a threatening look at the creature beside him, one that was returned in kind. "Whatever windows you have in your cells may be wide enough for him to escape through."

"What do you suggest?"

"Perhaps barring the window, or blocking it altogether. He is not to be trusted to not try and escape, if he can." Legolas stepped down from the table and took hold of Gollum's bonds.

"I will take him," he said, turning to his father behind him. "He will not escape from me." Thranduil nodded his approval and elf and man dragged Gollum out of the hall, with the two guards in tow.

After the doors closed, silence remained in the hall. Most were still too stunned to continue their dinner or whatever conversations they'd been engaged in before the interruption. Even the King seemed too upset and distracted to continue.

Haldir, now with a clear view in Legolas' absence, watched the King's reaction closely. He wondered to himself how he would handle such a situation, were it to happen in the Golden Wood. Before he could take that muse any further, he saw Mirien leave the table, also heading to the exit. He watched her go, a little too closely to be a simple passing glance, until she disappeared through the doors.

At first, he wondered what it was that made her leave. He thought maybe their 'intruders' had disturbed her too much to stay, but he soon discovered this was not so. As he looked over in her parents' direction, he saw that the expression on her father's face was one that could easily curdle new milk. Apparently, they'd been arguing. He had just resolved to go after her when he was engaged in conversation by none other than King Thranduil. It seemed he would be going nowhere.

Later that night, Mirien lay comfortably in her bed. She gazed over at her bedside table to the candle illuminating her room in a soft glow. This particular candle holder was fashioned to look like one of the Silmarils, delicately carved of crystal and white gems. She watched the flame dance and flicker within, all the while letting her thoughts drift far from an admiration of its beauty.

Haldir. Why was it that she could not stop thinking of him? Everywhere she saw his face, heard his voice, and smelled his scent. It was as if he were a virus that had infected her, yet there was no cure. Even while the discussion regarding Gollum took place, her eyes ever strayed in his direction. She found herself staring- tracing the lines of his neck and jaw with her eyes, wondering what it would be like to do the same with her lips.

Even as she'd entered and left the main hall she'd felt his eyes on her. She knew he found her attractive, desired her even. She'd seen it on his face when she'd dared look his way when he had been looking hers. She found herself wondering what would happen if she went to him that night…woke him with her kiss…

The flame of the candle flickered out, casting the room into darkness and startling her out of her fantasy. She had to stop thinking like this, she is still married and she still…cares for Ameron.

Ameron. The thought of her husband caused an unbearable wave of guilt to rise and lodge itself in the pit of her stomach. How would he handle her with another elf? She couldn't do that to him, she decided. After all, he'd never hurt her. And yet-

Images of Haldir came flooding back to her, taunting her, tempting her. Finally, in a moment of weakness, she decided.

She had to see him.

Mirien had learned many things during her time among the fighters in Mirkwood's army. Archery and marksmanship, skill with the blade and physical combat; but one skill above all aided her more than the others- uncanny stealth. It came to be quite useful for soundlessly opening the door to Halidr's room and slipping in as a ghostly wind. Silently she padded barefoot across the floor to the bed that was bathed in soft moon and starlight.

He lay there, half covered in a thin sheet, silver hair fanned out beside him on the soft pillow. She noted with amusement that he took up as much room as physically possible on the double bed, as if he wished to use every inch of space, so that no one part would be jealous of another for having the most contact with his perfect body. Or so she thought to herself.

She fluidly lifted herself onto the desk positioned several feet from the edge of the bed and folded her legs, resting her wrists comfortably on her knees. There she sat, as perfectly still and straight as an ivory carving, shinning in the dim glow. She moved not a muscle, lest she disturb an air molecule and wake the subject of her scrutiny. The only thing save for her soft, gentle breathing, that let on that she was alive at all, was her eyes.

They moved slowly and languidly over the form of the elf lying prone before her on the large four-poster bed. She began with his face, detailing every line and curve, peak and valley, smooth skin and silky hair, and etching them forever in her memory, lest she one day not be able to look upon them. That task done, she allowed her eyes to slowly make their way down his perfect neck, to the toned muscular chest, watching its gentle rise and fall for several moments before following down each arm, hand and finger, and then back up to continue their decent. Once she reached the edge of the sheet at mid-chest level, she stopped, unsure of what to do next. Should she dare try to carefully peel the fabric back and continue her investigations, or should she count herself lucky for what she had and leave before she was discovered?

For minutes she contemplated her choice, but it was long enough for it to be made for her. She saw a muscle in his neck tense and ripple along his chest, indicating that he had raised his head. In the instant it took for her to register this fact and look up to his face, two azure eyes had opened and fixed on hers. There was a long moment when neither of them dared breathe. Both were too shocked to speak- one out of fear and embarrassment, and the other out of confusion and curiosity. Seconds turned into minutes, and still they stared at one another. It was as if they were frozen in time, and to them their whole lives were this moment- nothing came before, nothing will be after; it was perfect. No questions were asked, no judgments were made – loyalty, honor, guilt, duty, emotion, didn't exist. There was only them. They simply were.

Then it was as if he had only blinked and the moment was over so fast he doubted it had in fact, actually happened. Mirien had jumped off the table and raced to the door faster than it took for his still clouded mind to register the fact that she had. Just as she reached for the door handle, he finally was able to react.

"Wait-" he whispered, but by the time the word was out, she was already gone.


	18. Chapter Seventeen

**Chapter Seventeen:**

Current Mood: hopeful

Current Music: You don't know what it's like - Blue Rodeo

_We've been traveling for two days. After speaking with Celeborn, I managed to convince him to let me take a small command with me to Mirkwood to send his good wishes for the King?s begetting day. The mission would also have the secondary benefit of being able to scout the land between Lorien and Mirkwood._

_And I'll be able to see Mirien._

_I'm surprised; I'm really looking forward to seeing her again. After our last parting, I felt as if I could never care for her like I once did, but for some unknown reason, I have a longing to see her. I have not felt this way since we were first married. Maybe I've just convinced myself that we have a chance; we can start over fresh. Maybe being together for so long has numbed us to our true feelings._

_Or maybe it's just wishful thinking._

Tamar looked out over the camp as the others began to settle down for the evening. It had been a long march that day, having passed over the Gladden Fields the night before, but finally they were nearing the Northern Anduin. Lacking a ship that could have taken them the entire journey on the river, and preferring solid ground to open water, Ameron had led his small contingent north following the Misty Mountains. The result was a slightly longer, yet he thought safer, journey to Mirkwood. Only Tamar knew that Ameron's real objective in this mission was to see Mirien.

Ever since that first night when Ameron had shared his thoughts with him, he?d been more open, using Tamar as a sort of support to help him work through what he was feeling. He had come to have a great deal of respect, and yet sympathy for his commander. He thought he understood the situation he was in, and that there really was nothing that could have been or be done about it. He then, seeing how easily one could fall out of love with their spouse, began to fear the same thing happening to he and Garielle. What if, as it seemed to be, one could just run out of love for another person? Could it then happen to people as happily married as he and his wife?

This thought prompted him to begin writing letters to Garielle while they were away from home, letting her know how he missed her and that he thought of her every day. He knew she most likely wouldn't even read them until he was home himself, but he hoped that their meaning would not be lost on her. He found it not only soothed his fears, but also intensified his own love for her. As he looked out over the others as they slept or lay in quiet revere, he wondered if any of them felt the same as he did towards their mates. He hoped they did.

He hoped Ameron did.

"Ameron," Tamar called as he approached the elf. He was sitting, as he often did, staring thoughtfully off into the direction of Mirkwood. Tamar had heard some of the others joke that he looked in the hopes of somehow seeing Miriam, even from this distance. Tamar wondered if he really did see her, in his mind, at least.

"Yes, what is it, Tamar?" He sounded as a man whose mind was far from where his body was, and Tamar knew that he did see Mirien.

"You look as one who is ill, my friend," he said in jest, although he knew it was not. "What troubles you?"

"Oh, but I am ill, Tamar," he moaned. "I have not felt this way since Mirien and I were first married and I was called away to border patrol; my heart misses her terribly." Tamar settled himself down on the grass beside him.

"I have found it helpful when I miss Garielle," he began, leaning forward to glance into the other's eyes, "to write a letter telling her how I feel."

"I will be seeing her in a few days," he responded tiredly.

"The point is not that she will be reading the letter," Tamar said gently, "it is simply an outlet for you to express your feelings- to cleanse yourself of your hurt and loneliness." Ameron looked at Tamar for a long time, mentally weighing the merit of such an exercise.

"Has it helped you?"

"Tremendously," Tamar admitted. He reached into one of his pockets and withdrew a piece of carefully folded paper and handed it to him. Ameron took it thoughtfully, rubbing the texture of the fabric and looking up at the meaningful gaze of his companion. After a brief pause, Tamar let go of the paper and got up, leaving his friend alone.

Ameron unfolded the blank page and smoothed it over his legs. In his pack he found a small quill and inkwell. He removed the stopper from the small bottle and held the quill in his other hand unmoving over the surface of the paper. Then he thought- about home, about his work, where he was going in life, in love and on foot. His head swam with words, all the possibilities of how he could begin, but as he finally dipped the quill in the inkpot and put pen to paper, all those thoughts seemed meaningless to him. Somehow, he found a way to turn off the thoughts in his head, and let flow through his pen the feelings in his heart.

_My beloved Mirien,_

_I am alone. I feel as though a part of me has died. It is because you are not with me. I realized after your visit how empty I feel when we are apart._

_I know you said that your love for me has fades, and I do not pretend to know why, but I was hoping that when I see you again, we could start fresh. I want to try again ? to fix my mistakes._

_You must think me separate to be saying these things. But I am desperate. I am afraid for us, afraid of losing you. Please do not feel pressured to feel what you do not, but I wanted you to know what I feel._

_I feel?hurt. Hurt and a little bit angry. Disappointed, maybe. What is it I have done to make you feel as you do? How have I failed as your husband? Perhaps if I knew I could change ? fix my mistakes and regain our love as it was in our youth._

_Or what if you never have loved me? You told me you did several times, but did you ever really mean it? I do not doubt your sincerity, but perhaps it was infatuation, rather than love that you felt. This could explain why I still have those feelings and you do not, for I truly loved you, heart and fea._

_I loved you the first time I saw you. You were just an elfling, but I knew even then that you would be my bride. I?ve cherished and cared for you ever since, and when your parents arranged our marriage ? well, it was the happiest I?ve ever felt. Save for, of course, the day we married._

_I know I cannot change the past, all I ask is that you allow me to try and build a new future for us._

_All my love,_

_Ameron._


	19. Chapter Eighteen

**Chapter Eighteen: **

Current Mood: hot

Current Music: 21 Things I want in a Lover – Alanis Morrissette

_We're leaving in a few days. After a month and a half at home, it's time; I'm not sure how much longer father and I can pretend to be civil. Still, I did enjoy the visit – I'd missed mom and the others._

_Doran and Carielle are happy that we'll be leaving soon, but then, they've always preferred sailing to dry land. It's as if the waters of Ulmo run in their veins! I myself have always been drawn more to Varda's stars and Manwe's winds, even though my ship and the water she sails on are very dear to my heart._

_Haldir is looking forward to returning also. I'm finding that the more I learn about him, the more difficult it is to put him out of my mind. After that night when he'd caught me in his room while he slept, I'd barely had the courage to look him in the eye, yet I find it impossible to get the image of his beautiful sleeping form out of my mind. And he was beautiful – the image of a Vala if ever I saw one._

_But it's not just his beauty that attracts me – I realized this recently. He's honorable and loyal, strong and courageous, kind, passionate, and even playful and a bit mischievous (essential for getting along with any of my crew!). There's so many things that endear me to him; so many that make him…different from Ameron. Ameron is also very kind and loyal and honorable, but I don't think he's ever traded jokes with my crew until we were laughing so hard we hurt, or challenged Carielle to an archery match, with the looser buying the ale. It's the little things that make them different – how Haldir and I can fiercely debate politics without it becoming a screaming match, or have dinner together and eat like real people and not dainty aristocrats._

_I think this visit to Mirkwood has been good for him._

_Not so sure it has been good for me._

He backed her into the wall behind her, careful not to be too rough. Two pairs of hands roamed questingly over their bodies, slipping under fabric and caressing flesh – soft and supple, or toned and firm.

His mouth devoured hers in a frenzy of need and want, drawing soft moans and whimpers from low in her throat. Her hands moved upward, anchoring in the cascade of his soft mithril hair, shining in the moonlight, as she deepened the kiss.

Before her clouded mind could register his hands leaving her hips, her outer vest slid from her shoulders and his eager fingers began manipulating the buttons on her tunic. It was all a haze of passion and happiness to her, her body responding to each subtle touch and caress he gave her. He knew what his touch did to her, and that power aroused and excited him even more, almost, than the knowledge that he finally had her all to himself.

They blindly stumbled their way over to the bed, falling together onto the soft mattress, never breaking contact. He rolled her beneath him, straddling her waist and pinning her arms to her sides, her palms flattened under each of his knees. She made a show of trying to struggle free, giggling with delight when he slightly increased the pressure to keep her captive.

"Oh, no," he said with mock seriousness, betrayed by the glimmer in his eye, "you're not getting away from me!" He then assaulted her with a new barrage of kisses, slowly traveling from her mouth across to flick his tongue teasingly around the curve of her ear, drawing a delighted shudder from his prey. Then he continued to her cheek, her jaw, and trailing down her long neck. All the while, he continued his efforts to free her from the cloth barrier between his hands and her warm skin beneath.

Finally as the last button was freed from it's hold, the fabric slid back revealing the smooth flesh underneath. He gasped softly, extending his hands, but not yet touching her, as if he were afraid she were an illusion that would dissipate if he tried to touch her.

"You are beautiful, Mirien," he breathed. Her heart leaped at the words, coming from his mouth. In _his_ voice.

"Haldir…" she whispered back. He leaned down to kiss her, but she was distracted this time from the thumping in the next room. Haldir looked up and grimaced at the intrusion, but the pounding continued. He sighed and looked as if he were about to call out to whoever was ruining the mood, when the thumping was accompanied by a familiar voice.

"Mirien? Mirien, wake up!"

Mirien sat up in bed, hair damp, heart racing and mind still clouded from her dream. Already the details were fading, but the main 'plot' remained – she and Haldir had been in love, and it was wonderful.

_"Mirien, wake up!"_ the voice grew more insistent. Carielle's voice. She looked out her window and saw that the sky above the trees was just beginning to glow with the new morning light. '_What could she want with me so early?_' she thought grumpily.

"Coming," she said aloud, wincing at the sleepy voice that she heard from her own mouth. She slipped on her robe and shuffled to the door, opening it to reveal the excited face of her armourer.

"Mirien," she exclaimed, "you're awake!" The captain rolled her eyes and sighed. Carielle smirked. "I just thought you'd like to know of a visitor that just arrived. He's on his way now." Mirien's eyes narrowed.

"A visitor? What visitor?"

"Me!" A too-familiar voice answered her from down the hall. She stepped out to see her husband walking towards her, arms outstretched. "Hello, my love! Surprised?" Mirien hesitated slightly as he embraced his bewildered wife in a warm hug. She finally closed her arms around him, and had enough sense to answer him.

"_You have no idea."_


	20. Chapter Nineteen

AN: I am soooooo sorry for not updating sooner! grovels I've a) been rather uninspired as of late and b) had little time to write even if I was. I know this is a pitifully short (and slow) chapter, but I promise it will get better. I just didn't want you all to think I'd abandoned it or something (thanks AmberRose for the e-mail! hugs)

I promise- more next time. nods

**Chapter Nineteen:**

Current Mood: Cynical

Current Music: Everybody's Fool- Evanescence

_She still hasn't spoken to me. It's been almost two days since I woke to find the vision of Mirien in my room watching over me as I slept. I still remember the moonlight illuminating her sleeping gown, making her seem as a Maiar or Vala clothed in shining white gossamer. Before I found the strength to speak she was gone and I was left bereft of her presence. I haven't slept well since. _

_I have just met with a party of Galadhrim that have just recently arrived, led by my lieutenant Ameron. He said Celeborn wished to send his personal good wishes to Thranduil for his begetting day, and asked that a gift be delivered in a formal ceremony that will be held momentarily. Only Ameron knows what the gift is, and was instructed to not reveal it until the ceremony. I must admit, at least to this private diary, that for some unknown reason, I feel a sense of jealousy for not being the one Celeborn entrusted with this task. It certainly would have made my time here a lot easier if I had come with a gift for the King._

"My Lord King Thranduil of the Realm of Northern Mirkwood," Ameron addressed him formally. He stood before the King's throne in formal elven dress with his arms outstretched, holding out a gilded box of shining mallorn wood. "The Lord and Lady of the Golden Wood bit you receive this gift as a token of their good wishes for the day of your begetting." With a surprised, yet pleased look on his deceptively young face, the King nodded to Ameron, who approached the throne, unhooking the clasp and presenting the box to the Sindar. The King lifted the lid to the collective gasp of all present.

"Mithril Ore," Legolas breathed, his eyes bright with wonder. Ameron's face was alight with joy.

"Enough to enhance the weapons of an entire elven army," he said proudly. Thranduil reached into the box and lifted one of the larger pieces, needing both hands to do so. His face was a mixture of shock and wonder.

"I have never had the pleasure of working with raw Mithril before," he said, almost to himself. "They say a blade coated in even a fine layer of pure Mithril will pierce any armour. It will never rust, never bend or brake, and will remain razor sharp without ever touching a whetstone." He looked down, catching Ameron's eyes. "This," he weighted the metal in his hands, "is a gift of life. With our army enhanced with this mithril, our defensive and offensive strength doubles. It may be possible to repel this evil on our own." He paused, and none but Legolas caught the emotion in that silence. "I have not the words to thank your Lord." Ameron bowed, setting the box at the King's feet and stepping back a pace.

"My Lord says: "Remaining alive is thanks enough. Twenty pounds of Mithril ore is a small price to pay for preserving the lives of my Silvan brothers." Ameron bowed again, and so did not see the tear fall from the King's eye. It seemed as though the Golden Wood had not abandoned them after all.

Carielle sat in one of the few places she knew of where one could find nearly every variety of ale, mead or wine this side of the Mountains of Rhun. At the moment she was nursing a particular variety of dwarven ale that brought back rather fond memories of her friends in the Iron Hills. She traced the rim of the glass with a finger, remembering long nights working with some of the greatest Dwarven smiths of the Third Age. She took another long draught from her glass, letting the ale amplify the warmth the memories stirred within her heart.

She often felt disdain or even outright anger towards those of her kin who still held to the long hatred of the dwarves. The conflict that had begun the feud was ages past, and yet both sides stubbornly refused to call a truce. She had no pity for those she knew were too young to remember what had happened, yet still remain as narrow-minded as their sires. Many of these, she mused, she dealt with daily.

"May I join you?" a soft voice asked from her left. Without looking she shrugged and put down her glass.

"Fine by me," she said. Haldir sat in the seat next to her and asked the elf on duty for a drink. "I recommend the dwarven ale from Khazad Barak," she said, still not making eye contact.

"Rosemead," he requested. Carielle snorted. "What? Do I amuse you?" She chuckled again, shaking her head and causing the many braids cascading around her shoulders to dance in the air like branches in an autumn wind.

"I knew you wouldn't try the ale," she answered. Draining her glass as she stood, she left a bewildered Haldir at the bar as he waited for his drink. She was so absorbed in her observations of the Marchwarden of Lorien that she nearly bumped into Mirien, who it seems was just on her way for a drink of her own.

"You're leaving?" she asked, sounding playfully disappointed. Carielle jerked her head back towards the bar.

"Your boyfriend is in there having a drink," she reported. No sooner had the words passed her lips that she felt Mirien grab her arm and drag her away from the door.

"He is _not_ my boyfriend!" she whispered harshly, defensively. "Yes, we have been working rather closely lately, and yes, he is…_very_…attractive, but…" she paused, formulating her defense. "But I am still a married _elleth_, and my husband is here, so I would appreciate a certain amount of discretion on your part in regards to your own speculations!" Carielle listened to her friend's outburst in quiet fascination, an amused grin spreading slowly across her face.

"Mirien," she said, "I was joking." The two women stood in silence for a moment, and then Carielle watched her friend's resolve crumble. She slumped against the wall and slid to the floor. "Ameron's visit has been a little stressful, has it?" Mirien nodded, suddenly somber. Carielle took her friend's hand so that she would look at her. "You know if you ever need someone to talk to..." Mirien smiled and laughed lightly to disguise her awkwardness.

"I know, Carielle, thank you." She looked in through the still open door to the bar and caught a glimpse of Haldir sitting with his mead. "I think maybe I'll just go back to my room," she said softly, "get some sleep. You know we're going home in a few days."

"Yes, I heard. How do you feel about that?" Mirien looked up at her, and the look in her eyes gave Carielle pause.

"I don't know," she lamented. "Things are just...so much more complicated now."

Haldir turned subtly to look over his shoulder at the quiet exchange between the two elves at the door. He watched as Mirien spoke softly to her officer, and then left after having seen him sitting here. Turning back to his drink he sighed, reconfirming his earlier assumption. He would return home in three days, taking nothing with him from this experience but the memory of the beautiful yet untouchable elleth whose phantom he'd seen in his bedchamber as a product of his own wishful thinking.


	21. Chapter Twenty

AN: I'm _back_! Thanx for all the reviews! I hope this slightly longer chapter makes up for my long absence :)

**Chapter Twenty:**

Current Mood: optimistic

Current Music: White Flag- Dido

_The past few days have gone better than I could have hoped._

_I arrived in Mirkwood early in the morning. The scouts led us to the palace and in turn, to where the crew of Mirien's ship was staying. I found Haldir standing outside gazing thoughtfully at the sky. We spoke briefly about my presence and why Celeborn would send his message with me and not him. He seems to think that Celeborn deliberately withheld the honor of presenting the king with a gift from him for some reason, but I assured him that it was a last minute decision. I hope he is not too upset over it._

_Then I was led by Carielle up to Mirien's chambers. Finally I was with my wife again._

"A visitor? What visitor?" he heard from down the hall. So she was awake!

"Me!" he couldn't help but exclaim. His heart was so full of love and anticipation that the word had simply flown out of his mouth like a bird escaping its cage. He climbed the last step and turned the corner to behold his wife, dressed in her thin nightclothes and looking positively shocked to see him. He smiled.

"Hello, my love! Surprised?" She still seemed quite bewildered as he moved forward to hug her. The inner turmoil and nervousness he'd felt calmed by the feel of her in his arms, her smell filling his senses. He relaxed, and finally felt peace for the first time since he'd first needed to see her. Seemingly having gotten over her surprise at his sudden appearance, she returned the hug, hesitantly, but he took it as simple disbelief.

"You have no idea," she responded, finally relaxing into the embrace and warming to his presence. He didn't notice Carielle leaving them, but when they parted she was gone. Mirien still seemed a bit flustered at the surprise, smoothing down the front of her gown in nervousness.

"I – I was sleeping," she explained with a shy smile, "I didn't expect to see you again until I returned to Lorien." Ameron reached out to caress her cheek.

"I couldn't wait that long," he responded softly. "I've missed you since you went away," he went on, "more than I thought I would. Something's happened, I'm not sure what it is, but my love for you has grown in the time we've been apart. I'm so glad to be here now." She leaned into his palm and covered his hand with hers. Before long he kissed her, softly, and then she led him into her chambers.

"Have you slept?" she asked as he wandered in after her. She noted that he wore his traveling clothes that bore all the signs of long journey and sleeping out in the open.

"Not tonight," he responded, unhooking his bow and beginning to strip off his jacket and boots. "When we realized how close we were to Mirkwood, we elected to continue on and rest when we arrived rather than take another day to get here."

"Why have you come?" she asked. She was pulling the sheets on the bed into some semblance of order, and he smiled at the action. Ever since he'd known her she'd always been a heavy sleeper. He used to joke that there must be some Edain blood in her the way she tore up the bedclothes at night so that each morning she woke wrapped in a fabric cocoon.

"Lord Celeborn wished to honor the King with a gift for his begetting day," he explained, suppressing the rising giggle at the image his mind conjured of his sleeping wife. "He regrets that he could not send it in time for the actual day, but the gift did not come to him until recently."

"What is it?" she asked, slipping back under the covers on one side of the large bed. He grinned as he pulled his undershirt off over his head and padded over to join her.

"Ahh, I can't tell you that," he said. She shot him a look of mock hurt and his smile widened. "Meleth, not even those I traveled with know, not even Haldir." Had he been looking at her, and not concentrating on the act of climbing into bed at the time, he would have seen his wife take pause at the mention of his Captain's name. As it was, by the time he turned back to her, the look of interest had returned, covering that of the guilt she felt in her heart. It was then she realized that her husband had no way of knowing what it was that she felt for his commander, or the thoughts she had so recently had of him. He was blissfully unaware that his wife secretly lusted after another elf, and that elf was known so well to him. That brief moment of realization almost manifested in a physical pain deep in her stomach, as one certain of an impending doom feels when the last thread of safety has fled and all that remains is their cruel fate.

As it was, Mirien turned to her husband and smiled. Caressing her cheek with his hand, he kissed her again and the two lay down together to sleep away the last of the early twilight hours.

Later that morning Ameron awoke refreshed, entwined within his wife's embrace. For the moment he lay there, ruminating on his good fortune – he had a wife he loved, friends, family and a solid place in Arda. At that moment he felt utterly at peace with himself and his life.

A shaft of sunlight filtered through the window, illuminating his half of the bed and gently lifting the pleasant haze from his mind Before long, Mirien began to stir and the two got up together to greet the day.

"We will be returning home in a few days," she said over a light breakfast. "Would you like to come with us, or would your men rather stay for a longer visit here?"

"I'll have a talk with them later," he said, setting down his tea, "but I would like to return with you." He reached across the table to cover her hand with his. She smiled shyly and they finished their meal.

Afterwards Ameron made his presentation to the King, to the awe of all assembled. A formal banquet was then arranged in honor of their new guests from Lorien, and also as a sort of preemptive farewell to the crew of Airelussa. For many, this would be their last chance to see their friends from the Golden Wood.

Legolas weaved through the crowd of merrymakers on search of Mirien. He hadn't been able to talk with her in several days, having been away on patrol near the southern border. He it was who had first spotted Ameron's company and escorted them home.

He saw her off in a corner speaking softly with Carielle, and as he neared, she looked over and discreetly made her exit so they could talk.

"So I hear I may have a long wait until our next sparring match," he commented jauntily as he approached. A smirk rose on her lips as he almost saw her mind scramble for a retort. "No need," he continued, "you couldn't hope to come up with a response that could possibly match my wit." He chuckled as she playfully smacked him on the arm.

"I'll have you know, Doran has been tutoring me in some rather clever techniques," she said smugly, "you may just have some competition when I get back."

"And when will that be?" he asked softly, somewhat bringing the mood down to a more somber level. Her smile faded as she considered that it may indeed be a long time until they met again. She looked up at him and saw the same thing written in his eyes. He was worried.

"What is it?" He sighed, as if deciding whether or not to elaborate.

"There has been some talk," he said in a hushed whisper. "You remember the creature Estel has brought to us, Gollem?" She nodded. "They say that he knows where the One is, and that he himself was long its keeper." He hushed her surprise with his hand and continued. "The fact that he no longer has it means that someone else must, someone who, I am certain, will not take the Dark One long to find. Mirien," and at this he made sure to catch her eyes with his. "Many are speaking of Aman." Before she could respond properly, their conversation was interrupted by Ameron thrusting a glass of Miruvor into his wife's hand as he joined them.

"My Lord, it is good to see you again," he said happily, "as we met ever so briefly last night."

"Ameron," he nodded. "Excuse me, Mirien," he said as he went off to greet another of their many guests.

"Mirien," Ameron continued as if he hadn't just broken up one of the most tense conversations she had had in a long while. "I just spoke with your parents and they have agreed to come home with us for a visit. Your father and I have so much to catch up on, and your mother is looking forward to seeing Lorien again after so long." Swallowing back the near immediate rise of bile in her throat, she put on as good a forced smile as she could muster.

"That's wonderful, Ameron," she lied, "I would love to have more time with my family." Deep down, however, a voice screamed, 'this can't be! One month with my Father was more than enough time, but now they'll be home with me for who knows how long? Ameron, what have you done?'

Across the room, Legolas and Haldir sat together. Legolas had noticed, rather curiously, that his friend had not spared even a glance in Mirien's direction all evening. He did not see that Mirien's time was taken up mostly by Ameron, and so did not wonder what interest his lieutenant would have in her. He did not see them eat together, dance together, and even share a discreet kiss as they talked. All he saw was the bottom of his glass as he mourned the loss of something he told himself never existed. When they talked, it was short and to the point. Legolas understood that his friend's depression was a passing thing, and that what he needed right now was support. And so he sat, surveying the room from where he was, speaking to those who approached, and helping his friend drink away his sorrows.

The rest of the night passed smoothly, with many toasts and formal farewells. Two days later the crew of the Airelussa set sail, leaving behind their distant kin of Lasgalen and setting a course for home.


	22. Chapter TwentyOne

I'm _really_sorry for taking so long...too much stuff going on to write. Only short this time, but I hope to update soon. Thanks for sticking with me!

**Chapter Twenty-One**:

Current Mood: wistful

Current Music: Sand in my shoes - Dido

_We're about to dock on the shores of Lorien, though I find myself thinking wistfully of Mirkwood. These past few days have been far from easy, with not only my parents aboard, but also both Ameron and Haldir in the same space. It has been extremely difficult keeping my affections for Haldir hidden from those who should not know about it. I want nothing more than to be able to act on them, but Ameron seems determined to win back my love and, to some extent, he is succeeding._

_This, of course, does not change the fact that tomorrow Haldir will be back on border patrol, and I may never see him again. It's frustrating knowing that something will happen and there's nothing you can do about it. If only things were different. If only the Valar had seen fit to give me the life I would choose for myself._

_Then I wouldn't have to say goodbye._

Mirien watched the shore creep closer and closer to her from across the Anduin. She closed her eyes as the wind caressed her face, smiling at its gentle touch. The moment of peacefulness was short-lived however, as soon the sounds of activity behind her could no longer be ignored. 'Couldn't someone else be the Captain for a while?' she mused to herself. She reluctantly turned away from the soothing wind, but was promptly regretting that decision.

"You there," her father's voice addressed one of her officers. "This deck should be spotless! An that port sail should not be left lax like that, is there anyone here who actually does their job?" With a grieved sigh, Mirien stepped forward, the sacrificial lamb taking on the punishment for her crew.

"Father," she called to him as cheerfully as she could manage. "My officers perform their duties admirably." She used a careful tone, so as not to provoke his ire. He seemed to consider her statement, and then sigh in displeasure.

"It seems that the definition of 'admirably' has changed somewhat since I had my own command," he grumbled. Mirien saw the pained expressions on the unfortunate crewman he had chosen to vent on, and offered him an apologetic look. "You know, people have changed too," he went on. Mirien listened half-heartedly as she attempted to steer him away from her crew. "Centuries ago, elves were born, they reached their maturity, married and settled down and had a family. Now you'd be hard pressed to find an elflings under two hundred!" He stopped as they reached the bow and turned to her. "Perhaps that is part of the problem," he said, mostly to himself. "There has not yet been a child for you and Ameron. You don't have a stable marital life, what with constantly being away from each other."

"It's the nature of our jobs, Adar," she put in, "we knew that when we married."

"Your mother worries, you know."

"Mother always worries," she smiled despite herself. They stood in silence, watching the horizon slowly approach, all but basking in this rare moment of peace between them. Almost, Mirien could convince herself that they were a normal family, at least for that moment.

"There you are." They turned to greet her mother, who looked for all the world as if she belonged out at sea. The sheer outer layers of her gown fluttered in the breeze, giving her the look of a maiden of the sea, somewhat akin to Uinen the fair.

"You look lovely, my wife," her father greeted her.

"We have nearly arrived, mother," Mirien greeted, "would you like to watch from the bow?"

"I would love to, dear," she said, ascending the step up to the slight platform and taking her place beside her husband.

"I must go attend to my duties," Mirien explained, looking beyond them as her crew prepared for landing, "I will see you after?"

"Of course."

Haldir had spent the morning gathering his belongings and fighting the headache he still refused to admit he had. He had not left his cabin all day, and it was only at hearing a crewman announce their imminent landing that he even had thoughts in that direction. She was out there. He might run into her. He might loose his composure in public.

He might have to say goodbye.

At last when he deemed he could wait no longer, he shouldered his pack and left his cabin. He was halfway down the hallway and nearly to the stairs when she nearly bumped into him on her way down. They stopped and stared. After what seemed like an eternity, she nodded in an official manner.

"Captain."

"Captain," he nodded back. She continued down past him, their shoulders brushing on the way, when without thinking about it, he reached out and grabbed her arm. She spun around in surprise, eyes locked on his, face mere inches from his. Once his heart finally began to start beating again, he cleared his throat, letting go of her arm, the memory of that contact imprinting indelibly on his memory.

"I," he began, but did not know how to continue. After a breath he tried again. "I just wanted to get a chance to say goodbye." Her eyes still locked with his, she nodded, slowly, all but admitting the fact that they both knew there was far more to his action than he had let on. Her face was still so close to his, somewhere in the back of his mind he realized that he could feel her breath on his lips. But then slowly, she backed away.

"Goodbye then," she whispered. Before she could think to say any more, she backed away down the stairs, and left him alone.

_It would be the last time they would see each other for ten years. _


	23. Goodbye

**This is not a new chapter**

**This is an announcement for all readers of my active stories that I will no longer be updating on this site, but on my new website (see my profile page for address)**

**After having a story deleted by I have decided that the site is more trouble than it's worth. I am upset about the necessity of this step, but it was a long time coming. **

**I am as now setting up a 'review board' for my website, but until it is up and running, all reviews should be sent to melanye magma. ca **

**Again, thank you for reading my stories, and I hope to see you all at my new site.**

**Sincerely,**

**Melissa, aka**

**MelanyeBaggins**


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